Knowledge

KNOWLEDGE KEITH LEHRER University of Arizona

CLARENDON PRESS • O X F O R D 1974

Oxford University Press, Ely House, London W.i GLASGOW CAPE TOWN DELHI

NEW YORK

IBADAN

BOMBAY

TORONTO

NAIROBI

CALCUTTA

KUALA LUMPUR

MELBOURNE

DAR ES SALAAM MADRAS

SINGAPORE

WELLINGTON

LUSAKA

KARACHI

ADDIS ABABA

LAHORE

HONG KONG

DACCA

TOKYO

ISBN O i g 824406 I

© Oxford University Press 1974

All rights reserved. Mo part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of Oxford University Press

Printed in Great Britain by Butler and Tanner Ltd, Frome and London

To Adrienne

Preface T H I S book contains ten chapters which lead to the articulation and defence of a theory of knowledge and justification. I do not attempt to base knowledge either on a foundation, on fundamental first principles, or even on scientific materialism. Knowledge, on my analysis, is based on belief, something quite subjective. Hence, the final three chapters of the book, in which my account is laid down, may, if read by themselves, appear somewhat extraordinary. I have progressed gradually in the book from doctrines which, though they may well be disputed, are not unfamiliar, to some that are more esoteric. The reader who finds the earlier chapters insufficiently provocative may wish to skip to the later ones for novelty. On the other hand, the reader who begins near the end to see what the author has u p his pages, may, if what he reads seems outrageous, care to return to the beginning to learn by what reasoning the author reached his conclusions. I have supplied a table of contents adequate to reveal to epistemologists, and perhaps others of more general interests as well, what they are likely to find therein. Moreover, in the earlier chapters, very little prior background in philosophy is assumed. Though I have attempted to transcend current theories, I have also attempted to provide enough background material to make the contents of the book accessible to students of philosophy and scholars in other fields. For anything that is of value in this book, I am indebted to my teachers, most of all to R. M. Chisholm with whom I disagree but whose influence is everywhere present. It is his philosophy with which I have argued most and which I frequently undertake to refute. Whether the refutation is successful and whether the doctrine I defend is an opposing theory or a modification of Chisholm's epistemology, I leave it to the reader to decide. The other teacher to whom I am most indebted is W. F. Sellars. I n many ways, some of them rather indirect, I have depended on his writings and less formal communication. It is from Gilbert Harman and Edmund Gettier, Jr.,

PREFACE

that I have otherwise learned the most and to whom I am grateful for enlightening discussions and correspondence. I should also like to mention Risto Hilpinen, Jaakko Hintikka, Isaac Levi, Carl Hempel, and W. V. O. Quine, as philosophers who have shaped the development of my thought and writing. T o my most gifted students, especially Marshall Swain, Thomas Paxson, Jr., and James Van Cleve, as well as my colleagues, Henry Kyburg, Jr., Rolf Eberle, J o h n Pollock, and S. Milton Jones, I am deeply indebted for ideas, criticism, and erudition. I am also indebted to Richard Ketchum, Nicholas Smith and Natalie Tarbet for reading, commenting on, and editing parts of the manuscript. There are others to whom I am indebted. Most of all, perhaps, I am indebted to my wife, who not only put up graciously with five years of anguished composition, but also discussed epistemology with me, applying her well-trained and perceptive mind to a subject that interested her rather little. Terence Ackerman helped me prepare the footnotes. R u t h Spall, Karen DeVisser, and Roslyn Creson assisted me by typing the manuscript. With the exception of the last three, who occasionally introduced some modifications into the manuscript, none of those I mentioned is responsible for what I have said. I doubt that any of them would agree with the conclusions I have reached. Finally, I should like to express my appreciation to the American Council of Learned Societies, the National Science Foundation, the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioural Sciences, and the University of Rochester for their financial support of my research. K. L.

Acknowledgements T H E author expresses his appreciation to the editors and publishers who permitted him to reprint material from the following articles written by the author. "Belief and Knowledge", from the Philosophical Review (1968), 491-9, by permission of the editors. "Believing that One Knows", from Synthese, xxi (1970), 133-40, by permission of D. Reidel Publishing Company, Dordrecht-Holland; Boston, U.S.A.

Contents W H A T IS K N O W L E D G E ? Three Senses of 'Know' Analysis and Meaning On Analysis Semantics and Philosophical Analysis The Form and Objectives of an Analysis of Knowledge The Analysis of Knowledge v'A Truth Condition /A Belief Condition \J A Justification Condition Justification and Basic Beliefs A Counterexample A Fourth Condition: Justification without Falsity A Final Analysis of Knowledge

i i 3 4 5 7 9 9 12 13 14 18 20 21

T R U T H AND K N O W L E D G E Knowledge and the Absolute Theory of Truth Truth and Levels of Language Knowledge and the Semantic Theory of Truth Objections to the Semantic Theory of Truth A Modification of the Semantic Theory of Truth Knowledge and the Elimination of Truth The Elimination of Truth Truth, Knowledge, and Meaning Meanings, Propositions, and Truth Other Theories of Truth: The Correspondence Theory The Coherence Theory of Truth Truth and Knowledge: An Objection

24 24 25 27 28 30 33 36 37 38 42 45 48

BELIEF AND K N O W L E D G E The Consistency of Knowledge and Belief T Know' as a Performative Utterance Knowing but Believing one does not A Proof that Knowledge Implies Belief An Objection: Remembrance without Belief Borderline Cases of Knowledge

49 49 52 55 58 59 61

ii

4.

5.

6.

CONTENTS Knowledge and Conviction The Requirement of Conviction Knowledge without Conviction: Objections and Replies Memory without Knowledge

63 66 69 72

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND K N O W L E D G E : T H E F O U N D A T I O N T H E O R Y (I) Two Theories of Justification: Foundation and Coherence The Foundation Theory The Foundation as a Guarantee of Truth Incorrigible Belief A Definition of Incorrigibility A Counterexample An Amended Definition of Incorrigibility Alleged Examples of the Incorrigible The Corrigibility of Thought The Corrigibility of Beliefs about Sensations Armstrong's Argument A Reply to Armstrong Sensations and Incorrigibility: A Counterexample Other Alleged Counterexamples Some Objections

75 76 76 78 80 81 8% 83 85 87 91 91 92 95 g6 97

CORRIGIBLE JUSTIFICATION: THE F O U N D A T I O N T H E O R Y (II) Complete Justification and Independent Information The Inadequacy of Common Sense An Objection: Skill or Information? Chisholm and the Non-comparative Use of Words Semantics and Justification Meaning and Epistemic Principles Meaning and Scepticism Self-justification and Necessary Truth

101 102 105 106 108 no 111 114 119

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND E V I D E N C E : FOUNDATION THEORY (III) How Justification is based on Evidence Justification as a Logical Guarantee of Truth Phenomenalism Analytically Reductive Theories Meaning and Inductive Justification Probability and Justification

122 122 126 127 129 131 135

THE

7.

CONTENTS

xiii

Three Concepts of Probability Frequencies and Justification Logical Probabilities and Justification Subjective Probability and Justification Probability, Truth, and General Statements Justification and a Probability of One Decision Theory and the Objective of Truth Probability and Basic Beliefs Summary of the Argument Concerning the Foundation Theory

136 137 138 14.0 143 144 146 150 151

SYSTEMATIC JUSTIFICATION (I): THE EXPLANATORY COHERENCE THEORY The Traditional Answer: Coherence as Entailment Coherence as Explanation On the Justification of What is Explained Explanatory Coherence and Justification: An Analysis Explanatory Coherence On Explanation An Epistemic Analysis of Explanation Explanation as a Logical Relation Objections to Coherence as Explanation Explanatory Coherence and Observation Statements Observation Statements and Conditioned Responses Observation and Natural Selection An Ethical Analogy Self-explanatory Beliefs Self-explanation: An Evaluation Justification without Explanation: Some Examples Some Final Objections: Weak Explanations and Competing Systems Simplicity and Conservation Summary

&y S Y S T E M A T I C J U S T I F I C A T I O N ( I I ) : T R U T H COHERENCE The Circle of Belief The Doxastic System and Complete Justification Coherence and the Chance of Truth Justification and Competition An Analysis of Complete Justification Comparison with the Foundation Theory

154 157 159 161 162 163 165 167 168 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 178 180 182 184 AND 187 187 189 igo 192 197 198

CONTENTS

9.

10.

The Explanation Theory The Rationality of Completely Justified Belief Consistency Expected Utility The Value of Truth and Error Complete Justification and Positive Value Objections and Replies Summary The Problem of Truth

200 201 202 204 206 207 208 212 213

SYSTEMATIC JUSTIFICATION (III): THE FOURTH CONDITION OF KNOWLEDGE The Gettier Example Some Inadequate Solutions A Non-inferential Example A Harmless Error , The Knowledge of Falsity The Grabit Example The Newspaper Example A Solution: Verific Alternatives Perception and Inference Knowing that We Know The Conditionality of Chance Summary

215 215 218 218 219 220 221 222 223 226 228 232 234

METAPHYSICAL SPECULATIONS: S C E P T I C I S M AND M A T E R I A L I S M Scepticism and Agnoiology Conception and the Chance of Error A Refutation of Scepticism The Merits of Scepticism Materialism and Belief: The Identity Theory Extreme Materialism The Scientific Rejection of Materialism Metaphysical Speculations

236 236 237 238 240 241 246 247 247

INDEX

-

251

I

What is Knowledge? O N L Y man knows what is true or false, or so he says. Some men have denied that we know what is true or what is false, and they have remained sceptics. Scepticism must have a hearing, but we shall begin our study with the opposite assumption: we assume that men have knowledge. But what is knowledge?

Three Senses of 'Know' We may begin to answer the preceding question by noticing the ambiguity of the word 'know'. Consider the following sentences: I know the way to Lugano I know the expansion of pi to six decimal places I know how to play the guitar I know the city I know J o h n I know about Alphonso and Elicia I know that the neutrino has a rest mass of o I know that what you say is true I know the sentence number (3) on page 29 is true I know the sentence 'Some mushrooms are poisonous' is true. These are but a small sample of different uses of the word 'know'. We can easily see that the meaning of the word differs in some of these sentences. If we are interested in finding out what a man has when he has knowledge, we must first sort out the different senses of the word 'know'. Then we may ask our question again, once it has been disambiguated. In one sense, 'to know' means to have some special form of competence. Thus, to know the guitar or to know the multiplication tables up to ten is to_be competent to play the guitar or to recall certain products of any two numbers not exceeding ten. If a man is said to know how to do something, it is this

2

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

competence sense of 'know' that is usually involved. If I say I know the way to Lugano I mean that I have attained the special kind of competence needed either to get to Lugano or to direct someone there. If I say that I know the expansion of pi to six decimal places, I mean that I have the special competence required to recall or to recite the number pi expanded to six decimal places. 1 Another sense of 'know' is that in which the word means to be acquainted with. When I say that I know John, I mean I am acquainted with J o h n . The sentence 'I know the city' is more difficult to disambiguate. It might mean simply that I am acquainted with the city, and hence have the acquaintance sense of 'know', or it might mean that I have the special form of competence needed to find my way around the city, geographically and/or socially. If I say t h a t j j c n o w the city, I might mean that I know it in both the competence and acquaintance senses of 'know'. This example illustrates the important fact that the senses of 'know' we are distinguishing are not exclusive; thus, the term'know' may be used in more than one of these senses in a single utterance. 2 The third sense of 'know' is that in which 'to know' means to apprehend that something is information. If I know that the neutrino has a rest mass of o, then I apprehend that something is information, namely, that the neutrino has a rest mass of o. The last three sentences on the list all involve this information sense of the word 'know', i It is often affirmed that to know something in the other senses of 'know' entails knowledge in the information sense of'know'. I must have some information about Lugano if I know the way to Lugano; about the expansion of pi if I know the expansion of pi to six decimal places; about the city if I know the city; about the guitar if I know how to play the guitar, and so forth. Thus, the information 1 See John Hartland-Swann, An Analysis of Knowing (Allen and Unwin, London, 1958), chapter 4, 'Knowing How and Knowing That', 56-66; and Gilbert Ryle, 'Knowing How and Knowing That', Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, xlvi, (1945-6), 1-16. 2 Russell used the expression 'knowledge by acquaintance', but in a somewhat more technical sense. See his 'Knowledge by Acquaintance and Knowledge by Description', Proc. Aris. Soc. xi (1910-n), 108-28, and reprinted with some alterations as chapter 5 in The Problems of Philosophy (Oxford University Press, London, 1959), 46-59-

ANALYSIS AND M E A N I N G

3

sense of the word 'know' is often implicated in the other senses of the word. I n our study, we shall be concerned with knowledge in the information sense. It is precisely this sense that is fundamental to human cognition and required both for theoretical speculation and practical investigation. Some philosophers have denied the existence of such knowledge and also that such knowledge is essential to both theory and practice. 3 We shall consider this viewpoint when we turn to our investigation of scepticism. We may assume, however, that such knowledge has played a fundamental role in both theory and practice even if, with some subtle sceptical strategies, this could be avoided. Analysis and Meaning The foregoing discussion was designed to isolate that sense of the word 'know' used to characterize the kind of knowledge that is to be the subject of our study. However, to indicate the information sense of the word 'know' as being the one in question, and to say what that sense is, is quite different from giving an analysis of the kind of knowledge we have picked out. To isolate a sense of a word and to communicate that sense to others, it is only necessary to select some other words having roughly the same meaning as the word in question which will serve to distinguish and communicate that sense of the word. If I tell a person that 'muzhik' means 'Russian peasant', I can communicate the same information by saying that 'muzhik' means the same as 'Russian peasant'. Here we supply a synonym, or an approximately synonymous term, to say what a term means, but to do this is not to analyse anything. Many philosophers have identified the task of analysing what a word means with that of analysing what it denotes. 4 Thus, for example, some philosophers have supposed that to analyse the meaning of the word 'good' would be to analyse the 3 For recent defences of such scepticism sec Keith Lehrer, 'Why Not Scepticism?' Philosophical Forum, ii (1971), 283-98, and Peter Unger, 'A Defense of Scepticism', Philosophical Review, lxxx (1971), 198-219. For a history of scepticism, see Richard Popkin's A History of Scepticism from Erasmus to Descartes (Van Gorcum, Assen, Netherlands, i960). 4 The most illustrious is G. E. Moore in Principia Ethica (Cambridge University Press, London, 1903). See chapter 1, sections 6-8.

4

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

kind of goodness denoted by the term used in that sense. Much of this is confusing, and much of the confusion is generated by the term 'analysis' itself. On Analysis T h e first matter to be clarified concerns the question of what constitutes an analysis of something. An analysis is always relative to some objective. It does not make any sense simply to demand the analysis of goodness, knowledge, beauty, or truth, without some indication of what purpose such an analysis is supposed to achieve. To demand the analysis of knowledge without specifying further what you hope to accomplish with it is like demanding blueprints without saying what you hope to build. Thus, before asking for an analysis of either knowledge or of the meaning of the word 'know', one. must beable„to explain what goals one hopes to achieve with such an analysis, or else one cannot sensibly expect an answer. Usually, the objectives that guide an analysis are not made explicit in philosophy, and this is most unfortunate. Much of the dialogues between Socrates and his students reveals very clearly that those who replied did not understand what Socrates was after when he asked such questions as, 'What is justice?' Only when Socrates stopped to explain what sort of answer he was seeking did he obtain the sort of answers that were relevant. There is no better lesson in the importance of clearly formulating one's objectives before asking 'What is . . . ?', than the misunderstanding that occurs in some of the dialogues of Socrates. With these remarks in mind, let us consider the distinction between analysing the meaning of the term 'know' in the information sense of that term and analysing the kind of knowledge denoted. A man who is seeking an analysis of the meaning of that term may have some theory of meaning in which part of a complete theory would involve a theoretical explication of the meaning of that term. For example, one might have a theory of meaning designed to assign semantic interpretations to strings of words in order to explain how a speaker communicates with a listener, how a listener understands what is uttered by a speaker, and how a speaker understands his own words. An

SEMANTICS AND P H I L O S O P H I C A L ANALYSIS

5

analysis of the meaning intended to fulfil the objectives of such a theory belongs to a theory of semantics. 5 Semantics and Philosophical Analysis Many philosophers have been interested in the task of analysing the meaning of the word 'know' and some have argued that such a project should supplant the job of analysing knowledge. 6 Indeed, many would argue that there is no need for philosophical analysis remaining once we have a satisfactory analysis of the meaning of the term 'know'. This restrictive conception of philosophical analysis is sustained by a dilemma. Either a theory of knowledge is a theory about the meaning of the word 'know' and semantically related epistemic terms, or it is a theory about how people come to know what they do. The latter is not part of philosophy at all, but rather that part of pyschology called learning theory. It follows that if a theory of knowledge is part of philosophy, then it is theory of knowledge about the meaning of the word 'know'. That is the argument, and it is one that would reduce the theory of knowledge to a theory of semantics. It is not difficult to slip between the horns of the dilemma. A theory of knowledge need not be a theory about the meaning of epistemic words any more than it need be a theory about how people come to know what they do. Instead, it may be one explaining what conditions must be satisfied and how they may be satisfied in order for a person to know something. When we specify those conditions and explain how they are satisfied, then we shall have a theory of knowledge. An analogy should be helpful at this point. Suppose a man says that there are only two kinds of theories about physical mass. Either a theory of 5

Recent treatises of importance on semantics include L. Jonathan Cohen's The Diversity of Meaning (Methuen, London, 1962), Robert Fogelin's Evidence and Meaning (Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1967), Jerrold Katz's Semantic Theory (Harper and Row, New York, 1972), and Paul Ziff's Semantic Analysis (Cornell University Press, Ithaca, N. Y., i960). For an anthology see Theory of Meaning, ed. Adrienne and Keith Lehrer (Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1970). 6 For example, see A . J . Ayer's The Foundation of Empirical Knowledge (St Martin's Press, New York, 1955) and The Problem of Knowledge (Penguin, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1957).

6

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

matter is a theory about the meaning of 'mass' and semantically related physical terms, or it is a theory about how something comes to have mass. This dichotomy would be rejected on the grounds that it leaves out the critical question of what mass is, or to put it another way, it leaves out the question of what conditions must be satisfied for something to have a given mass. A theoretician in physics might be concerned with precisely the question of what conditions are necessary and sufficient for an object to have mass, or more precisely, to have a mass of n, where 're' is a variable that would be replaced by a number. Similarly, a philosopher might be concerned with precisely the question of what conditions are necessary and sufficient for a man to have knowledge, or, more precisely, to know that p or that S is true, where 'p' is a variable that would be replaced by a declarative sentence and '£" by the name of a sentence. Again, philosophers who are the followers of Wittgenstein have objected to the attempt to formulate such conditions on the grounds that the meaning of 'know' and other such terms have certain semantic peculiarities ensuring that no set of conditions is necessary and sufficient for the application of the term. 7 The cases to which the term applies, according to such philosophers, have only a family resemblance to each other, and that is why it is impossible to give an analysis of the desired kind. This argument is defective, however. First, it is extremely difficult to see how, from the fact that the objects to which a term applies have only a family resemblance to each other, it could be thought to follow that there are no necessary and sufficient conditions for the application of the term. Obviously, a necessary and sufficient condition for the application of the expression 'S knows that p' is precisely the condition of S knowing that p. This could be made less trivial with little difficulty. The objection conceals the confused idea that a set of conditions necessary and sufficient for the application of a term constitutes a kind of recipe for applying terms which would enable us to decide quite mechanically whether the term applies in each instance. However, we may, without taking any position on the question of whether such a recipe can be found for applying the term 'know', state flatly that this is not the purpose of our theory of 7 For example, see Colin Radford's article, ' "Analysing" 'Know(s) That' ', Philosophical Quarterly, xx (1970), 222-9.

THE FORM AND OBJECTIVES

7

knowledge or the analysis of knowledge incorporated therein. Our interests lie elsewhere. The Form and Objectives of an Analysis of Knowledge We shall then approach the question ^What is_Knowledge_?' with the objectives of formulating necessary and sufficient conditions for a man having knowledge (in the information sense of the term 'know') and of explaining how those conditions may be satisfied. Our project is contiguous with scientific investigations having analogous objectives. Thus, we contend that the distinction between philosophy and theoretical science is a bogus distinction whether viewed historically or systematically. 8 Historically, it is clear that the special sciences break off from philosophy when some theory emerges that deals with a circumscribed subject in a precise and satisfactory manner. Philosophy remains the residual pot of unsolved intellectual problems. To date, theories of knowledge have remained in the pot. It is not claimed that the current study or other recent research has brought us to the point where the theory of knowledge should be poured out into a special science, but it may be hoped that we are approaching closer to that goal than some suspect and others fear. A formulation of an analysis of knowledge may be expressed by an equivalence. Again, the analogy with mass is helpful. An analysis of mass may be given in an equivalence of the following form: 0 has a mass of n if and only if. . . where the blank to the right of the equivalence is filled with a sentence describing a set of necessary and sufficient conditions. Similarly, an analysis of knowledge may be given in an equivalence of one of the following two forms: S knows that p if and only if. . . or S knows that Q, is true if and only if . . . 8

The attack on this distinction is, most recently and impressively, due to W. V. O. Quine's discussion in his article, 'Two Dogmas of Empiricism', Philosophical Review, lx (1951), 20-43. The theme is further developed in Quine's later works, e.g. in 'Epistemology Naturalized' in Ontological Relativity and Other Essays (Columbia University Press, New York, 1969).

8

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

where the blank to the right of the equivalence is filled with a sentence describing a set of necessary and sufficient conditions. When considering candidates for such sets of conditions, two qualifications are critical. First, there must be no experiment, of fact or thought, which would falsify the resulting equivalence. T o say that there is no experiment of thought to falsify the equivalence means there is no example one can think of that is a logical possibility and is consistent with other postulates of the theory under consideration which would yield the result that one side of the equivalence is satisfied and the other is not. In short, there must be no counterexample. In our investigation we shall begin without making any assumptions concerning the postulates of our theory of knowledge and thus consider any logically possible case as a potential counterexample. This procedure could have the result of making our analysis more restrictive than it needs to be because certain cases that are logically possible might be ruled out by postulates that are formulated subsequently in the development of our theory of knowledge. In our exposition we shall omit the consideration of examples which could be ruled out by principles to be introduced subsequently. I n addition to being immune from counterexamples, such an equivalence will only be a suitable analysis if it facilitates reaching our epistemic objectives. Thus, though some analyses are definitely mistaken because we can find acceptable counterexamples, there are other equivalences which fail to constitute satisfactory analyses because they are unenlightening. The equivalence we would obtain, by writing the same thing in the blank space to the right that is already written to the left of the 'if and only if, though immune from counterexamples, would completely fail to explain or inform. We are beginning with the analysis of knowledge rather than with a discussion of how the conditions of knowledge are satisfied. The explanatory role of our analysis will be illustrated throughout the remainder of our study. Some initial clarification of the projected role of such an analysis may, however, provide at least basic guidance. We shall be concerned with an analysis that will be useful for explaining how knowledge claims may be justified. Thus, if a man claims to know that p, he may be asked either how he knows or -

A TRUTH CONDITION

9

why he thinks that p. For example, if I claim to know that all the Perch in the Genesee River will be killed by a pollutant that raises the temperature of the water two degrees, someone might ask me how I know that or why I think it is true. Such questions and the answers provided are the basis for critical discussion and confrontation in cognitive inquiry. The replies to such queries show us whether or not the conditions for knowledge have been satisfied. Consequently, an analysis of knowledge intended to facilitate explanation of how the conditions of knowledge are satisfied will be most fruitful if the conditions contained in the analysis enable us to explicate the way in which knowledge claims may be justified. The Analysis of Knowledge With these preliminary remarks to guide us, we shall now offer an analysis of knowledge. Each condition proposed will be the subject of a subsequent chapter. Moreover, in the case of some controversial conditions, we shall not undertake a detailed defence in the present chapter. Our intention here is only to provide the analysis with some intuitive justification which will subsequently be developed and defended. A Truth Condition The first condition of knowledge is that of truth. When a man is asked to justify his claim to knowledge, he must explain why he thinks what he says is true. Thus, if I claim to know that the next man to be elected President of the United States will have assets of at least one-half of a million dollars, and I am asked to justify that claim, I must offer my reasons for thinking that this claim is true. Moreover, if my claim is false, that is, if the next man to be elected President of the United States does, in fact, have assets of less than half of a million dollars, then my knowledge claim was incorrect. I did not know what I said I did. Thus, we shall accept the following conditionals: (iT) If S knows that p, then it is true that p and (iiT) If S knows that the sentence Q. is true, then Q, is true.

io

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

It is essential to clarify these two conditionals each of which expresses a necessary condition of knowledge. Both say that if a man knows something then it is true, but what a man is said to know in the conditional is different in each case. Consider the difference between my saying that I know that Andorra is a small nation in the Pyrenees, and my saying that I know that the sentence 'Andorra is a small nation in the Pyrenees' is true. At first these two sentences might seem to be the same, but it is well to note some simple differences. First, when I say that I know that Andorra is in the Pyrenees, though I utter the words 'Andorra is in the Pyrenees', I need not have uttered those words, or any English words, to say that I know that Andorra is in the Pyrenees. I might have made the same claim in French or some other language. The crucial fact is that, though I utter the sentence 'Andorra is in the Pyrenees' in claiming to know that Andorra is in the Pyrenees, I say nothing whatever about that sentence. I do not even say that the sentence exists. I merely use the sentence to say that I know that Andorra is in the Pyrenees. Thus, it is consistent with what I claim that there should be no such sentence at all, though, in fact, my speech shows that there obviously is such a sentence. In sentences having the form of the antecedent of (iT), nothing is said about any sentence. It is not claimed that any sentence is true or even that any exists. The most perplexing feature of the foregoing remarks is the contention that if I say I know that Andorra is in the Pyrenees, I have not said any sentence is true. It might be objected that according to (iT) I have said that it is true that Andorra is in the Pyrenees. Though I have used the sentence 'Andorra is in the Pyrenees' to say that it is true that Andorra is in the Pyrenees, I have said nothing about that sentence. An analogy involving names is helpful in this instance. If I use a man's name to say something about a man, for example, if I say that Alphonso is a homosexual, I have not said anything about the name 'Alphonso'. I have, instead, used that name to say something about the person. O n the other hand, when I say that I know that the sentence 'Andorra is in the Pyrenees' is true, I have obviously said something about that sentence, for example, that there is such a sentence and that the sentence is true. Thus, when we consider the consequent of (iiT), we see that when I

A TRUTH

CONDITION

II

say I know that the sentence 'Andorra is in the Pyrenees' is true, a necessary condition of my knowing what I say I know is the truth of the sentence 'Andorra is in the Pyrenees'. I n this case, then, unlike the first, I have said that a sentence is true. This contrasts with the first case where I do not say that any sentence is true but rather use a sentence to state what is true. These distinctions, which will be elaborated further in the next chapter, have led philosophers to distinguish between what they call the absolute conception of truth embedded in a sentence of the form It is true that the snow is white and the semantic conception of truth embedded in sentences of the form The sentence 'the snow is white' is true. 9 The first is called the absolute conception because there is no reference to a language, or to any part of language, and, thus, this conception of truth is not in any way relative to a language or to the meaning of any terms in a language. As Arthur Pap has stressed, it is true that the snow is white even if there is no language anywhere to describe that fact. 10 The colour of the snow and the snow itself are what they are quite independently of any description anyone might care to give of the snow and its colour. On the other hand, the semantic conception is so called because the truth of a sentence depends not only upon the facts but upon what the sentence means, upon^the semantics of the sentence. Whether the sentence 'Snow is white' is true depends not only upon the snow and its colour but upon the meaning of the sentence and the words contained therein. Though much more sophisticated semantic interpretations of the sentence might be offered, the truth of the sentence depends most simply on the sentence meaning that snow is white. 9 See Alfred Tarski's 'The Semantic Conception of Truth' in Readings in Philosophical Analysis, ed. Herbert Feigl and Wilfrid Sellars (Appleton-Century-Crofts, New York, 1949). 10 See Arthur Pap's article, 'Note on the "Semantic" and the "Absolute" Concept of Truth', in Mew Readings in Philosophical Analysis, ed. Herbert Feigl, Wilfrid Sellars, and Keith Lehrer (Appleton-Century-Crofts, New York, 1972), 208-14. Hereafter, this anthology is referred to simply as Mew Readings.

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

18

One final point may be anticipated before proceeding to consideration of the second condition of knowledge. We shall in the next chapter argue that the condition (iiT) may be reduced to a condition that is equivalent to (iT). Hence, we shall in the remaining discussion concern ourselves only with the problem of formulating conditions of S knowing that p. Thus, we shall drop the semantic conception of truth from our discussion at this point and justify this deletion later. A Belief Condition The second condition of knowledge is belief. If I deceitfully claim to know that J a n married J a y on 31 December, 1969, when I do not believe it, then I do not know J a n married J a y on that date even if, contrary to what I believe, they were married then. Indeed, it matters little what other conditions are satisfied. If I do not believe that p, then I do not know that p. Thus, the following conditional expresses a condition of knowledge: (iB) If S knows that p, then S believes that p. There are problems concerning the implications of this condition, because the term 'believe', like 'know', has more than one sense. The fundamental ambiguity of the term which affects our analysis concerns the strength of conviction implied by saying that a person believes something. Some philosophers have insisted that a man may know something is true even though he lacks conviction of its truth, while others, in diametric opposition, have contended that a man only knows something is true when he is sure, or certain, of the truth of what he believes. Thus, certain philosophers have denied condition (iB) on the grounds that a man may know something to be true that he does not believe at all, 1 1 and others have maintained that for a man to know something to be true he must believe it to be true with considerable certainty. 12 O u r position is that conviction is required: a man must be 11

Colin Radford, 'Knowledge—By Examples', Analysis, xxvii (1966), I - I 1. See G. E. Moore's Philosophical Papers (Allen and Unwin, London, 1959), 'Certainty', 226-51; and A. J . Ayer's The Problem of Knowledge, chapter 1, section (iii), pp. 14-26. 12

A JUSTIFICATION CONDITION

13

convinced if he knows something to be true. O n the other hand, we see no reason to require that the conviction approach certainty. So long as the man believes that p is true in the sense of being genuinely convinced of the truth of/), he may be said to know that p, provided the other conditions of knowledge are met. This question will be examined in more detail in a later chapter where the opposing arguments will be examined. A Justification Condition T h e third condition affirms the need for justification, and thus requires explication of the manner in which our claims to knowledge are justified. Moreover, while we allowed that a man need not be completely certain of p in order to know that p, we shall insist that a man must be completely justified in his belief that p in order to be said to know that p. Our condition may be formulated as follows: (ij) If S knows that p, then S is completely justified in believing that jf?.13 The locution 'S is completely justified in believing that p' will be used in a somewhat technical way, and so we offer some clarification of what is meant. In colloquial usage, a speaker may say that another is completely justified in believing that p because the speaker has strong evidence that p. There may be no implication that the other has such evidence. For example, if someone says 'Alexander believes his wife is unfaithful', and I reply 'He is completely justified', I may be implying only that I have evidence of her infidelity, never mind how I acquired it, without any implication that Alexander has such evidence. Thus, I could expand the previous utterance and say instead, 'He is completely justified as it happens, but really has no evidence of her infidelity —she is too clever.' This use of the expression 'completely justified' is not acceptable in (ij). When we say that S is completely justified, we shall mean that if his belief is based on 13 Ayer in The Problem of Knowledge, 31-5, formulates the condition as the right to be sure. Chisholm formulates it as having adequate evidence in Perceiving: A Philosophical Study (Cornell University Press, Ithaca, N.Y., 1957), 5 and 17, and as something being evident for a man in Theory of Knowledge (Prentice Hall, Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1966), 18-23.

i4

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

evidence, then he is completely justified by the evidence he has in believing that p. Thus, that I am completely justified in believing that p, by the evidence I have, does not by itself warrant my saying another is completely justified in his belief that p. He too must have evidence which completely justifies his belief before he is, in the required sense, completely justified in believing that p. The moral of the preceding remarks is that our answer to the question of when a belief is completely justified will not be enslaved to ordinary thought and speech. For the sake of theoretical advantage, we shall delete unwanted implications and allow expedient expansion within the theory of justification we articulate below. Justification and Basic Beliefs There are, however, two possible ways in which a man may be completely justified in believing something. First, he may be completely justified in believing that p because he has some evidence which completely justifies him in believing that p. This is perhaps the most familiar way in which a man may be completely justified in his belief. The concept of being justified by the evidence requires further elaboration, but, before turning to this matter, we must notice one other possibility. Some philosophers, Thomas Reid for example, have maintained that a man may be completely justified in believing something without need of evidence or other justificatory support for the belief. i4 The beliefs alleged to be so justified are of a special kind, for example, fundamental beliefs of common sense concerning memory or perception. They are considered to be the basic beliefs constituting the evidence in terms of which all other beliefs are justified. It is, however, altogether controversial whether there are or need to be any basic beliefs. On the whole, empiricist philosophers affirm the existence of some such beliefs by maintaining all justification would be impossible without them. They aver that unless there are some basic beliefs to 14 Thomas Reid, Essays on the Intellectual Powers of the Mind, from The Philosophical Works of Thomas Reid, ed. Sir William Hamilton (James Thin, London, 1895), particularly Essay vi, 'Of Judgment', sections 4-6.

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND BASIC BELIEFS

15

which we may appeal in justification, we shall lack a necessary starting-point for justification. I n the absence of basic beliefs the whole edifice of justification would collapse for want of a foundation. Other philosophers, who defend coherence theories of justification, have argued that there need not be any basic beliefs, that all beliefs may be justified by their relation to others, and that there is nothing untoward in such mutual support. 1 5 Justification is like a house of cards: the edifice of justification stands because of the way in which the parts fit and support each other. We shall not'attempt to adjudicate between such theories at this point, for it is a matter that will require extensive examination, but it is important to leave open the possibility of basic beliefs. Some philosophers hold basic beliefs to be essential to an analysis of knowledge containing condition (ij). 1 6 Their reasoning is that unless there are such basic beliefs, condition (ij) will lead either to a circularity or to a regress. If non-basic beliefs are completely justified by evidence, then, it is argued, they must be justified by some knowledge; and nothing counts as evidence unless it is known to be true. Hence, if we agree that a condition of a man knowing that p is his being completely justified by his evidence, then we are requiring that he be completely justified by something that he knows. If his evidence for p is q, then he must know that q. It follows that, in the absence of basic beliefs completely justified without evidence, we should, in the attempt to justify a claim to knowledge, always appeal to other knowledge claims which in turn must be justified by appeal to still others, and so forth. This means that such justification must either never end and hence lead to a pernicious regress, or it must run in a circle and hence force us to assume the very claim we seek to justify. Such arguments are more directly concerned with theories 15 Gilbert Harman defends such a theory. See his article, 'Knowledge, Inference, and Explanation' in New Readings, 357-68. 16 Most recently, Anthony Quinton holds this position in his book, The Nature of Things (Routledge and Kegan Paul, Boston, 1973), 119. See also Arthur C. Danto's An Analytical Theory of Knowledge (Cambridge University Press, London, 1968), 27-8, and C. I. Lewis's An Analysis of Knowledge and Valuation (Open Court, LaSalle, 111., 1946), 186. However, philosophers too numerous to cite have held this position which was clearly formulated both by Plato and Aristotle.

i6

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

of justification than with the analysis of knowledge, and we shall reconsider them when we discuss those theories. Nevertheless, it is important to refute the foregoing argument in order to show that condition (ij) does not commit us to the doctrine of basic beliefs. Let us undertake the refutation. First, justification need not proceed until all claims to knowledge employed in the justification are themselves justified. If we consider justification in a social context, the justification of knowledge claims need proceed only as long as some claim to knowledge is disputed. Thus, if we suppose that justification is a response to a query or demand, then there is no reason to suppose that the argument need proceed beyond the point at which agreement is reached. Hence, even if all completely justified beliefs are justified by evidence, not all claims to knowledge, employed to defend some other such claims, need themselves be justified. They only need to be justified when they engender disputation. There is yet a more decisive refutation than the preceding. It undermines the attempt to produce a regress or circularity by repudiating the initial assumption of the argument, to wit, that for something to be evidence it must be known to be true. Why need we know that p is true before we may appeal to it as evidence? In practice we surely appeal to anything as evidence that we are completely justified in believing, and such appeals are deemed legitimate. Let us only require a man to be completely justified in believing that q before he may justify his belief that p by appeal to the evidence that q. Then any semblance of circularity in the analysis of knowledge vanishes. Moreover, any attempt to obtain a regress of justification could be met by arguing that some beliefs are completely justified because of the way they cohere with a system of beliefs rather than by appeal to evidence or other forms of argumentation. It follows, then, that if we agree that it is logically consistent with condition (ij) to deny the existence of basic beliefs, just as it is logically consistent with it to affirm the existence of basic beliefs, we may conclude that an analysis of knowledge containing condition (ij) neither precludes nor entails the existence of such beliefs. Thus, we leave the problem of basic beliefs to be resolved by a theory of justification. Such theories are of fundamental importance; indeed, they are of greater importance than the analysis of knowledge itself. These theories ex-

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND BASIC BELIEFS

17

plain what completely justifies a belief and hence when we are justified in claiming to know. It is, therefore, entirely appropriate that our analysis of knowledge should leave the question of basic beliefs to be answered by a theory of justification. We shall argue that complete justification is a matter of coherence within a system of beliefs. Most philosophers have thought that knowledge claims, when completely justified, were justified on the basis of some objective method of assessing such claims. Some thought the test was that of experience, others of reason, and there have been mixed methodologies as well. All have assumed that beliefs must be checked in some objective manner. They have repudiated with epistemic horror the idea that belief itself could be the last court of evidence. That a man believes something is considered far too subjective a datum to serve as a solid basis for justification. Even those philosophers who argue that some beliefs are self-justified sought some principle by means of which we can determine which beliefs are self-justified and which not. They too have held that we must somehow transcend the subjectivity of belief in order to demarcate the area of justified belief. This conception has become so ingrained philosophically as to impose itself on common sense. However, the assumption that there is some objective method, for distinguishing the honest coin of justified belief from the counterfeit of the unwarranted, shall not go unexamined. We shall study in some detail those theories that rest on this assumption, but, to warn the reader fairly, in advance, no such theory shall prevail once wc have exhibited our mint for epistemic approval. The theory of justification wc shall ultimately defend may strike some as closely aligned with scepticism. We shall examine this charge, but even here it should be noted that our sympathies with the writings of the philosophical sceptics of the past are strong. Too often contemporary writers seek the most effective method for liquidating the sceptic without asking whether his teaching may not be of more importance than his mode of burial. Since the most brilliant philosophers of past and present have been sceptics of one form or another, it would behove those who study scepticism to consider whether these sceptics have some truth in their grasp. We claim they do. There is no exit from the circle of ones own beliefs from which one can

18

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

sally forth to find some exquisite tool to measure the merits of what lies within the circle of subjectivity. Nor is there such a tool, as we shall show. But subjectivity when directed toward truth and away from error can provide the basis of demonstrably reasonable justification. A Counterexample Some philosophers have suggested that the conditions which are individually necessary for knowledge as formulated in (iT), (iB), and (ij) are jointly sufficient for knowledge as well. 17 This would amount to affirming the following equivalence as an analysis of knowledge: S knows that p if and only if it is true that p, S believes that p, and S is completely justified in believing that p. In short, knowledge is completely justified true belief. Nevertheless, this analysis has been disputed by Gettier and requires amendment. 1 8 Gettier argues that a man might be completely justified in believing that F by his evidence, where F is some false statement, and deduce T from F, where T is some true statement. Having deduced T from F, which he was completely justified in believing, the man would then be completely justified in believing that T. Assuming that he believes that T, it would follow from the analysis considered that the man knows that T. He might, however, not know this at all, especially if T is a disjunction of two statements, the statement F and a true statement Q,, and the man in question has no reason whatever for thinking that Q, is true. In such a case, the belief that T will be true, but the only reason the man has for believing T to be true is the inference of T from F. Since F is false, it is a matter of luck that the man is correct in his belief that T. 1 9 An example should help to illustrate the point. Suppose a teacher wonders whether any member of his class owns a Ferrari and, moreover, suppose that he has very strong evidence 17

Ayer and Chisholm defend similar analyses in works cited above. Edmund Gettier, Jr., 'Is Justified True Belief Knowledge?', Analysis, xxiii (1963), 121-3. Bertrand Russell made a similar observation in The Problems of Philosophy, 132. 19 Gettier, op. cit. 18

COUNTEREXAMPLE

19

that one student, a Mr. Nogot, owns a Ferrari. Mr. Nogot says he does, drives one, has papers stating he does, and so forth. The teacher has no other evidence that anyone else in his class owns a Ferrari. From the premiss that Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari, he draws the conclusion that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari. The man might thus be as completely justified in believing this conclusion as he was in believing Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari. Now imagine that, in fact, Mr. Nogot, evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, simply does not own the Ferrari. He was out to deceive his teacher and friends to improve his social status. However, another student in the class, a Mr. Havit, does own a Ferrari, though the teacher has no evidence or inkling of this. In that case, the teacher would be quite correct in his belief that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari, only it would not be Mr. Nogot who he thinks owns one, but Mr. Havit instead. In this case, the teacher would have a completely justified true belief when he believes that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari, but he could not be said to know that this is true because it is more due to good fortune than good justification that he is correct. 20 Two philosophers, Irving Thalberg and Charles Pailthorp, have attempted to show that such examples as this are not counterexamples to the analysis of knowledge in question by arguing that a belief cannot be completely justified by being deduced from a false statement. 2 1 This line of argument fails for a number of reasons. First, the teacher in our example might infer that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari directly from true statements about Mr. Nogot concerning the car he drives, and so forth, without accepting the false statement that Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari. If the teacher is a clever man and is only interested in the question of whether there is at least one Ferrari owner among his students, he might reason that, 20 This example and related ones are taken from Keith Lehrer, 'Knowledge, Truth, and Evidence', Analysis, xxv (1965), 168-75. This article and others on the same topic are included in Knowing, ed. Michael Roth and Leon Galis (Random House, New York, 1970). 21 See the article by Charles Pailthorp, 'Knowledge as Justified True Belief, Review of Metaphysics, xxiii (1969), 25-47, a n d the reply by Keith Lehrer, 'The Fourth Condition of Knowledge: A Defense', ibid, xxiv (1970), 122-8. Also see Irving Thalberg's 'In Defense of Justified True Belief, Journal of Philosophy, xvi (1969), 794-803, and David Coder's reply in the same journal, lxvii (1970), 424-5-

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

20

though his only evidence of a Ferrari owner among his students is what he knows about Mr. Nogot and a certain car, there is at least the possibility that someone else owns one, and, hence, it is safer to accept the more general statement that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari than the quite specific claim that Mr. Nogot owns one. Hence, without concluding that Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari, the teacher in question concludes that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari. This conclusion is derived from a set of perfectly true statements about Mr. Nogot and the consideration that someone else in class may, for all he knows, own a Ferrari. But even this clever reasoner does not know that there is a single Ferrari owner among his students. Thus, the counterexamples to the analysis do not essentially depend upon inference from a false statement. There is, however, a second reason for rejecting the idea that such counterexamples may be met by arguing that inference from a false statement can never yield complete justification. Similar examples may be found that do not seem to involve any inference. An example taken from R. M. Chisolm illustrates this. Suppose a man looks into a field and spots what he takes to be sheep. 22 The object is not too distant and the man is one who knows a sheep when he sees one. In such a case it would be natural to regard the man as being completely justified in believing he sees a sheep in the field without any reasoning at all. Now imagine that the object he takes to be a sheep is not a sheep but a dog. Thus, he does not know that he sees a sheep. Imagine, however, that an object further in the distance which he also sees, but does not think is a sheep, happens in fact to be a sheep. So it is true that the man sees a sheep, and, moreover, he believes and is completely justified in believing that he sees a sheep. Of course, he still does not know that he sees a sheep because what he takes to be a sheep is not, and the sheep that he sees he does not take to be a sheep. A Fourth Condition: Justification without Falsity I n two of the cases we have described, a man has completely justified true belief but lacks knowledge and does not infer what he thus believes from any false statement. There is some merit, 22

R. M. Chisholm, Theory of Knowledge, 23, footnote 22.

A FINAL ANALYSIS OF KNOWLEDGE

21

however, in the idea that the falsity of some statement accounts for the lack of knowledge. Somehow it is the falsity of the two statements that Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari and that what the man takes for a sheep is one which accounts for the problem. We may say that in the first case the justification that the teacher has for his belief that at least one person in his class owns a Ferrari depends on the false statement that Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari even though that statement is not a premiss in any inference the man actually makes. We shall explore the kind of dependence involved subsequently, but here we may notice that the clever teacher would be unable to justify completely his belief that there is a Ferrari owner among his students were he to concede the falsity of the statement that Mr. Nogot owns a Ferrari. Similar remarks apply in the case of the sheep. To render our analysis impervious to such counterexamples, we must add the condition that the complete justification that a man has for what he believes must not depend on any false statement—whether or not it is a premiss in inference. We may thus add the following condition to our analysis: (iD) If S knows that p, then S is completely justified in believing that p in some way that does not depend on any false statement. 2 3 A Final Analysis of Knowledge The preceding condition enables us to complete our analysis of knowledge. We shall adopt the following as an analysis of knowledge: (AK) S knows that p if and only if (i) it is true that p, (ii) S believes that p,(n\) S is completely justified in believing that p, and (iv) S is completely justified in believing that p in some way that does not depend on any false statement. It is apparent that on one very natural interpretation of these conditions they are logically interdependent. Thus, for example, 23 This proposal is similar to one made in the articles by Keith Lehrer cited above, and by others as well in the series of articles elicited by the Gettier article. See especially Gilbert Harman, 'The Inference to the Best Explanation', Philosophical Review, Ixxiv (1965), 88-95.

22

WHAT IS KNOWLEDGE?

it is natural to interpret condition (iii) in such a way as logically to entail condition (ii), that is, if a man is completely justified in believing that p, then this entails that he believes that p. Similarly, one might interpret (iv) in such a way as to entail (iii), that is, if a man is completely justified in believing that/) in some way that does not entail any false statement, then this entails that he is completely justified in believing that/;. Given these entailments, the analysis would be subject to reduction by the elimination of conditions (ii) and (iii), because condition (iv) would entail those two conditions. We would thereby reduce the analysis to conditions (i) and (iv). The reduction of the analysis to conditions (i) and (iv) would simplify the analysis in terms of the number of conditions contained therein, but it would leave us with a very complicated condition (iv) having various logical consequences each of which would require separate treatment in an adequate theory of knowledge. Thus it will be useful to replace conditions (ii), (iii), and (iv) with logically independent conditions. We can do this quite easily. All that is required is that we make use of the logicians notion of a material implication. Logicians say that p materially implies q if and only if it is not the case that p is true and q is false. It is clear that this is a much weaker condition than entailment, for p entails q if and only if it is logically impossible that p is true and q is false. We can make conditions (iii) logically independent of (ii) by turning it into a material conditional. Instead of (iii), we would have (iii') as follows: (iii') If S believes that/), then S is completely justified in believing that p. It is clear that (iii') does not logically entail condition (ii), that is, S believes that p, because (iii') is logically consistent with the denial (ii), that is, it is not the case that S believes that p. To make it clear that (iii') does not require t h a t ' S believes that p' entails 'S is completely justified in believing that p', we may rewrite (iii') making the material implication explicit as follows: (iii') If S believes that p, then this materially implies that S is completely justified in believing that p.

A FINAL ANALYSIS OF KNOWLEDGE

23

We may then reformulate (iv) so that it entails neither (ii) nor (iii) in a similar way as follows: (iv') If S believes that p and S is completely justified in believing that p, then this materially implies that S is completely justified in believing that p in some way that does not depend on any false statement. If we then substitute (iii') for (iii) and (iv') for (iv) in the analysis of knowledge (AK), the fourth condition will clearly not entail either the second or third, and the third condition will clearly not entail the second. Thus, the earlier mentioned logical interdependencies will be eliminated. It is such an analysis of knowledge that we shall assume. Our next task is to examine each of these conditions of knowledge in order to formulate a theory of knowledge explaining how and why claims to knowledge are justified.

2

Truth and Knowledge the greatest agreement among philosophers has concerned the relation of knowledge and truth. As we noted in the first chapter, the kind of knowledge we are concerned with is knowledge that something is true. It is natural to conclude that if a person knows something is true, then it must be true. Thus, if I know that the atom has been split, then it must be true that the atom has been split. Another way to put the matter is to say that if I know that the sentence 'The atom has been split' is true, then the sentence 'The atom has been split' is true. I cannot possibly know that any sentence is true unless that sentence is true. Hence truth is a condition of knowledge. PERHAPS

Knowledge and The Absolute Theory of Truth We may formulate the preceding result in terms of the following two conditions: (iT) If S knows that p, then it is true that p. (iiT) If S knows that the sentence Q, is true, then the sentence Q,is true. The first of these two conditions may be formulated without reference to truth because of the following condition, sometimes called the absolute theory of truth: (AT) It is true that p if and only if/). 1 This condition tells us that it is true that the atom has been split if and only if the atom has been split, which, though it hardly 1 See the following articles for important discussions of the theory of truth: Rudolf Carnap, 'Meaning and Necessity', New Readings, 173-80; Arthur Pap, 'Note on the "Absolute" and the "semantic" Concept of Truth', New Readings, 208-14; P. F. Strawson, 'Truth' in Philosophy and Analysis, ed. Margaret MacDonald (Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1966), 260-77; a n d Alfred Tarski, 'The Semantic Conception of Truth', Readings in Philosophical Analysis, ed. Feigl and Sellars, 52-84.

T R U T H AND LEVELS OF LANGUAGE

25

seems very informative, is a logical truth. Therefore, it follows that (iT) is logically equivalent to the following: (iTa) If S knows that p, then p. Thus, we may eliminate all reference to truth in (iT) without loss of logical content. Truth and Levels of Language In order to appreciate the difference between conditions (iT) and (iiT), it is essential to draw some distinctions that are fundamental to semantic theory. The basic distinction concerns different linguistic levels. For example, suppose someone says 'The atom has been split.' Such a person is speaking about an object, the atom, and, though he is using language, he is not speaking about language. This sentence may thus be said to be a sentence in the object language. If someone says of the sentence just uttered 'The sentence about the atom is true', he is speaking about the sentence and has moved to a second linguistic level. This level of language is called the metalanguage. If a man now says of what this man has said 'The sentence about the sentence about the atom is true', he has moved to a still higher linguistic level in that he is now speaking of a sentence that was about a sentence. Thus, he is speaking in the metametalanguage, or more simply, the second metalanguage. This distinction between levels of language might seem somewhat artificial and unnecessary, but it has some rather general implications concerning the concept of truth. First of all, it allows us to avoid certain logical paradoxes involving the concepts of truth and falsity. The most familiar paradox is the following: (S) This sentence is false. It is reasonable to assume that (S) is either true or false. But if it is true, then, as it says, it is false. On the other hand, if the sentence is false, then, since it says it is false, it is true. Therefore, if the sentence is either true or false, then it is both true and false. It is sometimes thought that such sentences simply have the defect of referring to themselves, and thus that we may avoid

26

T R U T H AND KNOWLEDGE

paradox by ruling that all sentences that refer to themselves are not well formed. This strategy would deal with sentence (S), but the paradox would recur in sentences that do not refer to themselves. Consider the following two sentences: (A) Sentence (B) is true. (B) Sentence (A) is false. If one considers sentence (A) and supposes it is true or false, one reaches the conclusion that it is both true and false. If (A) is true, then (B) is true, and (B) says that (A) is false, so (A) is false. If (A) is false, then (B) is true because (B) says that (A) is false, so (A) is true. Hence, if (A) is either true or false, then it is both true and false. Moreover, sentence (A) does not refer to itself; it refers to sentence (B). Both of the paradoxes cited may be avoided by carefully distinguishing between different levels of language and requiring that sentences at one level refer only to sentences of a lower level. Consider sentence (S). As a sentence of a certain level, it must be about sentences of a lower level, and thus, sentence (S) would have to belong to the metalanguage of level n and the sentence referred to by the word 'sentence' in (S) would have to be a sentence in metalanguage n— i, or if n = i, in the object language. Thus, sentence (S) would read as follows: This sentence of language level n — i is false. But then the sentence becomes false because it says that the sentence is of language level n — i when in fact it belongs to language level n. Let us reconsider sentence (A) and (B) once the language level is made explicit. Assume (A) is in language n. Thus, (A) reads as follows: (A) Sentence (B) in language level n — i is true. Since sentence (B) is about sentence (A) in language level n, it is in language level n + i, and reads as follows: (B) Sentence (A) in language level n is false. It is now apparent, however, that sentence (A) is false because it says that sentence (B) is in language level n — i when, in fact, sentence (B) is in language level n + I. Hence, specification of language levels will enable us to avoid paradox. We may draw an important conclusion from these results concerning the concept of truth, namely, that a sentence is true

KNOWLEDGE AND THE SEMANTIC THEORY

27

or false in a certain language. For example, sentence (B) is false in language level n. Hereafter, instead of saying that a sentence is true, we shall say that it is true in L, and the language of the next higher level we shall, for convenience, call the metalanguage, of L. Knowledge and the Semantic Theory of Truth With these considerations in mind, we may now turn to a reconsideration of (iiT). It should now be rephrased in such a way as to make the reference to language levels explicit as follows: (iiT) If S knows that the sentence (2, is true in language L, then the sentence Q is true in language L. We found that by appealing to the absolute theory of truth we could eliminate reference to truth in (iT), and the question now arises as to whether we can formulate a theory of truth that will enable us to eliminate reference to truth in (iiT). Such a theory would be a semantic theory of truth. Alfred Tarski has proposed as a condition of adequacy for a semantic theory or definition of truth that all equivalences of the form (CA) S is true in L if and only if p, follow from the definition provided 'we substitute in place of the symbol '/>' in this schema any sentence, and in the place of 'S' any individual name of this sentence' in L. 2 If we replace '/>', for example by 'the atom has been split', and we replace '5" by a name of that sentence, for example, ' "the atom has been split" ' wc obtain the following equivalence: 'The atom has been split' is true in L if and only if the atom has been split. The condition of adequacy, if satisfied, would allow us to eliminate one reference to truth in (iiT) by substituting according to (CA) as follows: (iiTa) If S knows that the sentence Q, i s 2

true in

A

tnen

p',

Alfred Tarski, 'The Concept of Truth in Formalized Languages', in Logic, Semantics, and Metamathematics (Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1969), 155-6. Also see Tarski, 'The Semantic Conception'.

28

T R U T H AND KNOWLEDGE

provided that 'p' is replaced by a sentence of L, and '(£ is replaced by some name of that sentence in the metalanguage of L. As a consequence we could obtain the following: If S knows that the sentence 'the atom has been split' is true in L, then the atom has been split. Moreover, the condition suggests that we should be able to establish an important relation between the antecedents of (iT) and (iiT). It is as follows: If S knows that the sentence Q, is true in L, then S knows that p; provided that 'p' is replaced by a sentence of L, and 'Q,' is replaced by a name of that sentence in the metalanguage of L. This result has the following consequence: If S knows that the sentence 'the atom has been split' is true in L, then S knows that the atom has been split. Needless to say, the results of applying Tarski's condition are very plausible. Objections to the Semantic Theory of Truth We have seen that the condition of adequacy leads to some quite plausible results. The merits of it have been disputed however. It is not doubted that formal systems may be constructed in which a definition of truth is given from which it follows that the condition of adequacy is satisfied. Nor is it denied that such a definition would be fruitful. What is denied is that the condition is true by definition for parts of natural languages. According to the condition any adequate definition of truth must have the following as a consequence provided that 'the atom has been split' is a sentence of L: (E) 'The atom has been split' is true in L if and only if the atom has been split. We may here let 'L' designate part of English. The equivalence (E) written above would follow from a definition of truth according to the condition of adequacy. Therefore, if the condition of adequacy is reasonable, then (E) should follow from a definition of truth and hence be true by definition.

OBJECTIONS TO THE SEMANTIC THEORY

29

In opposition, Arthur Pap has argued that (E) is not true by definition because it is not a logical truth. 3 He argues that the sentence (Ei) 'The atom has been split' is true in English has logical consequences that should not be logical consequences of (Eii) The atom has been split and concludes that (Ei) and (Eii) are not logically equivalent. For example, sentence (Ei) has as a logical consequence the following: (Eicl) 'The atom has been split' is a sentence of English. This sentence is not a logical consequence of (Eii) because it is logically possible that the atom should have been split even if 'the atom has been split' were not a sentence of English, indeed, even if there was no such language at all. A world in which the atom was split by men who spoke some language other than English and in which there was no such language as English is a logically possible world. Thus, it is logically possible that (Eii) should be true and (Ei) false, and hence the latter is not a logical consequence of the former. 4 The preceding argument leaves open the question of whether (Eii) is a logical consequence of (Ei). This is a more plausible contention, but there is an argument against it as well. Suppose that the sentence 'the atom has been split' does not mean what it says, perhaps in the way in which a man writing a letter for a special purpose might write 'we hope to have the opportunity to serve you again' when it is quite clear from the context that what he means is just the opposite. If the sentence 'the atom has been split' does not mean that the atom has been split, then it might be that the sentence is true even though the atom has not been split. This would yield the result that (Ei) is true when (Eii) is false.5 This argument has been rejected by some philosophers on the grounds that the sentence (E) is itself in English and hence 3

4 Arthur Pap, op. cit. Ibid. This argument was suggested to me in conversation many years ago by R. C. Sleigh, J r . I do not know whether he would any longer accept it. 5

So

T R U T H AND

KNOWLEDGE

whatever 'the atom has been split' means in English is what it means when it appears in the right hand side of 'if and only i f in (E). Such an objection misses the point. Suppose we translate (E) into another language, German for example. If we do so, we must not translate 'the atom has been split' as it occurs in quotation marks to the left of'if and only i f in (E), because the sentence in quotation marks would no longer be a sentence in a language in which it is said to be true, namely, English. On the other hand, the occurrence of that sentence to the right of the 'if and only if in (E) and not in quotation marks would properly be translated into German when we translate (E). Thus (Eii) would be translated (EiiG) M a n hat das Atom gespalt while (EiG) would be translated (EiG) 'The atom has been split' ist wahr auf Englisch. But (EiG) does not logically imply that (EiiG) is a translation of (Eii) into German, though in fact it is. Since it is logically possible that 'the atom has been split' should not mean in English the same thing as 'Man hat das Atom gespalt' in German, it is logically possible (EiG) should be true when (EiiG) is false. Therefore, it is possible that the German translation of (Ei) would be false. But if one sentence logically implies a second, then a translation of the first must logically imply a translation of the second. Since the translation of (Eii) does not logically imply the translation of (Ei), it follows that (Eii) does not logically imply (Ei). 6 A Modification of the Semantic Theory of Truth The preceding objections to (E) suggest the modification:

following

(EM) 'The atom has been split' is true in English and means in English that the atom has been split if and only if 'the atom has been split' is a sentence of English meaning that the atom has been split and the atom has been split. 6

This argument is, of course, adopted from the translation argument of Alonzo, Church in 'On Carnap's Analysis of Statements of Assertion and Belief, Analysis x (1950), 97-9-

M O D I F I C A T I O N OF THE SEMANTIC THEORY

3i

The foregoing suggests as a condition of adequacy of a semantic theory of truth for a natural language that all equivalences of the form (CAm) S is true in L and S means in L that p if and only if S is a sentence in L meaning that p and p follow from the theory provided, again, that we substitute for 'p' any sentence of L and for '6" any name of this sentence in L. The preceding condition of adequacy meets not only Pap's objection but some objections raised by Herbert Heidelberger as well. 7 Heidelberger has pointed out that if we allow sentences that are neither true nor false, such as 'Knock before entering', to be substituted for 'p' in (GA), then we obtain the following: 'Knock before entering' is true in English if and only if knock before entering. The preceding sentence is not only ungrammatical and illformed, it illustrates quite clearly that what occurs to the right of the 'if and only i f is not logically equivalent to what occurs to the left of that expression. The latter is false because it is false that 'Knock before entering' is true in English, but the former, since it is a command, is neither true nor false. 8 This objection is met by (CAm) because, according to that schema, we would obtain the following when we replace 'p' by 'Knock before entering': 'Knock before entering' is true in English and 'Knock before entering' means in English that knock before entering if and only if 'knock before entering' is a sentence in English meaning that knock before entering and knock before entering. In this formulation, the statements on both sides of 'if and only i f are sentences that are neither true nor false. The sentence to the left of the expression is neither true nor false because of that part of the sentence reading ' "knock before entering" means in English that knock before entering'. A sentence affirming that a sentence means that knock before entering is ungrammatical. Of 7 Herbert Heidelberger, 'The Indispensibility of Truth', American Philosophical Quarterly, v (1968), 212-17. 8 Ibid. 213-14.

32

T R U T H AND

KNOWLEDGE

course, the sentence to the left of 'if and only i f is ungrammatical for the same reason. Both sentences are ungrammatical and neither true nor false, because an imperative sentence fills the spot in a sentence that must be filled by a declarative sentence. In such contexts the word 'that' must be followed by a declarative sentence for the larger sentence in which it is contained to be grammatical and true or false. Similar remarks apply to other of Heidelberger's objections to the condition based on (CA). For example, if we allow sentences that are neither true nor false to be substituted for f p' in (CA), then, if S is such a sentence, we may conclude by substituting in (CA) that (i) ~(>S is true in L) and (ii) r+j(~S is true in L) where ' ~ ' is the sign for negation. But from a substitution instance of (CA) and (i) we may deduce (ia)

~S

while from another substitution instance of (CA) and (ii) we may deduce (iia) S. Heidelberger maintains that since we can deduce a contradiction, r^S and S, from a substitution instance of (CA), this condition must be rejected. 9 One wishing to maintain (CA) could reply that the alleged contradiction, r^S and S, is not a contradiction on the grounds that this statement is neither true nor false because the conjuncts of which it is composed are neither true nor false. This reply does not, however, meet the objection in a satisfactory manner. Even if the conjunction is neither true nor false, it remains a consequence of (CA) that we may deduce a sentence which has the form of a contradiction by adding the premiss that there is a sentence S which is neither true nor false. And this is objectionable, for the premiss that a sentence is neither true nor false may be a factual premiss, one that as a matter of 9

Herbert Heidelberger, 'The Indispensibility of Truth', American Philosophical Quarterly, v (1968), 213.

KNOWLEDGE AND THE E L I M I N A T I O N OF T R U T H

33

logic could be true or false. But the conclusion, ~S and S, that one may deduce from such a premiss together with (CA) is a conclusion, which as a matter of logic, could not possibly be true. Thus (CA) permits us to deduce a conclusion that could not possibly be true from a premiss that could be either true or false. Such a procedure is objectionable, as is a system in which a contradiction may be deduced from a contingent premiss. Heidelberger's objection is only partially met by inserting (CAm) instead of (CA). As we have noted, a sentence such as 'Knock before entering', when placed after the words 'means that' in the contexts we have been considering, yields the result that the statements occurring on either side of 'if and only i f in the equivalence obtained from (CAm) are both ill-formed and hence that the equivalence is also ill-formed. This is not the end of the matter, however, for, according to P. F. Strawson, there are declarative sentences that are neither true nor false and these would yield a well-formed equivalence when used to replace '/>' in (CAm). Strawson contends that such a sentence as 'The present king of France is bald' is neither true nor false because the utterance of such a sentence presupposes that there is a present king of France and the falsity of this presupposition has the result that the sentence is neither true nor false. 10 This contention has been much disputed, and the most effective way to deal with the problem is to rule that such sentences are false, as Bertrand Russell has claimed. 11 Even if this involves some elements of stipulation, it enables us to obtain a gain in clarity and simplicity at no great loss. Moreover, Russell proposed an analysis of such sentences that would enable us to explain why such a sentence is false. The analysis of the sentence is such as logically to imply that there is one and only one person who is a king of France. With this issue decided, inserting (CAm) in the condition of adequacy meets the objections Heidelberger raised against using (CA).

Knowledge and the Elimination of Truth With (CAm) inserted in the condition of adequacy for a semantic definition of truth, let us return to our consideration 11

10 P. F. Strawson, 'On Referring', New Readings, 35-50. Bertrand Russell, 'Mr. Strawson on Referring', New Readings, 55-8.

34

T R U T H AND KNOWLEDGE

of (iT), (iiT) and the relation between knowledge and truth. The preceding discussion does not raise any problem for the reduction of (iT) If Sknows thatj&, then it is true that/; to (iTa) If S knows that p, then p by appeal to the equivalence It is true that p if and only if/) expressing the absolute theory of truth. When we employ the absolute concept of truth in contexts of the form 'It is true that . . .', the reference to truth may be eliminated in the formulation of the conditions of knowledge. When we say, however, that some sentence is true in a language thus employing the semantic concept of truth, the reference to truth cannot be eliminated in so simple a manner. Consider the following condition: (iiT) If S knows that the sentence Q, is true in L, then the sentence £Hs true in L. We have already noticed that we cannot eliminate the reference to truth by appeal to (CA), because (CA) is defective. Condition (CA) yields the equivalence: The sentence Q, is true in L if and only if p which should not follow from a definition of truth. For, as we have seen, that equivalence is not logical, that is, even when '/>' and '(y are replaced in the required manner, the sentence to the right of'if and only i f will not logically imply the sentence to the left of that expression and the sentence to the left will not logically imply the one on the right. By the same considerations it follows that we cannot replace (iiT) with the very plausible (iiTa) If S knows that the sentence £Hs true in L,

thenp;

provided that '/>' is replaced by a sentence of L and 'Q,' is replaced by some name of that sentence in the metalanguage of L. The reason for this is that even if '(£ is replaced by a name of the sentence that replaced '/>', the sentence

KNOWLEDGE AND THE E L I M I N A T I O N OF T R U T H

35

S knows that the sentence Q, is true in L does not logically imply that the name that replaces 'Q names the sentence that replaces 'p'. Therefore, it is logically possible that it should be false that p when S knows that the sentence Q, is true, even though in fact this will not arise because of the manner in which 'Q,' and 'p' are replaced. Since there is nothing in logic to prevent the situation of it being true that S knows that the sentence £),is true and false that/), the conditional in (iiTa) is not a logical implication. There is, however, a modification of (iiTa) that is acceptable, namely, one in which we add a clause to the antecedent of the conditional formulating the relation between the name that replaced lQJ and the sentence that replaces '/>'. It might be thought that this could be accomplished by simply modifying the conditional in (iiTa) as follows: If S knows that the sentence (Ms true in L and the sentence that replaces 'p' in L is named by the sentence that replaces '(T in the metalanguage ofZ, t h e n ^ . But this would be to mix language levels in precisely the way that leads to paradox. Suppose that the sentence is of level n. Since the replacements referred to are replacements in that sentence, it follows that the sentence is in the metalanguage of n and thus on the higher level n + 1. But this contradicts the supposition. To avoid this difficulty, we may modify (iiTa) in a different way, namely, by adding that Q means that p in L to the antecedent of the conditional in question. We then get the following: (iiTb) If S knows that the sentence Q, is true in L and Q, means in L that p, then p. This condition is considerably simpler than (iiTa) and the meaning clause enables us to dispense with the proviso concerning replacement. It does, however, bring in the concept of meaning which some philosophers, Quine most especially, have found to be objectionable. 12 However, the study of 12 See discussions by Quine on this matter, particularly, 'Two Dogmas of Empiricism', sections 1-4, and 'The Problem of Meaning in Linguistics', both in From a Logical Point of View (Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Mass., ro,53), 20-46 and 47-64, respectively.

T R U T H AND KNOWLEDGE

36

meaning in natural languages, though still in an explorative stage, holds promise of offering a satisfactory analysis of the concept. 13 The Elimination of Truth Let us review our progress. We have carried out this investigation to see if we could eliminate the reference to truth in the formulation of the truth condition of knowledge. Replacing (iT) with (iTa) achieves that objective with respect to formulating the truth condition of S knowing that p. The substitution of (iiTb) for (iiT) accomplishes something of the sort for eliminating reference to truth in formulating the condition of S knowing that (Hs true in L. Here, however, the elimination necessitates the addition of a clause formulating what Q means, and the reference to truth remains ensconced in the locution lS knows that the sentence Q, is true in L.' Is there any way to eliminate the reference here? The most tempting manoeuvre would be the following reduction: S knows that Q, is true in L if and only if S knows that p provided that 'p' is replaced by a sentence of L and '(T is replaced by a name of that sentence in the metalanguage of L. But the difficulty is that this is defective. First, there is again the problem that even though the proviso is met it does not follow from S knowing that Q,is true in L that this is so. This problem could perhaps be surmounted by conjoining to each side of the equivalence the sentence 'Q, means that p in L.' That strategy, however, would fail to meet the objection lodged earlier, that though S might know that p and though Q, might mean that p, S might not know that Q, means that p; indeed, he might not know what Q, means, and hence he would not know that Q, is true. To avoid such problems we should have to add to each side of the equivalence that S knows that Q, means that p. If we adopt this strategy we obtain the following equivalence : S knows that Q_ is true in L and that Q means that p in L if and only if S knows that p and that Q, means that p in L. 13

See books by Cohen, Fogelin, Katz, and Ziff cited in chapter i, footnote 5.

T R U T H , KNOWLEDGE AND MEANING

37

From this equivalence we can replace (iiTb) with the following: (iiTc) If S knows that p and that Q, means that p in L, then p. O n the other hand, it is perfectly clear that in (iiTc) the reference to S knowing that Q means that p in L is, with respect to the conditions of knowing, simply superfluous. For (iiTc) follows from (iTa) If S knows that p, then p. Thus the preceding reduction proves that (iiT) reduces to (iTa). There is no reference to truth in (iT). Therefore, the reference to truth may be eliminated in the formulation of the truth condition of knowledge. Truth, Knowledge, and Meaning There is one remaining problem concerning knowledge and truth. We have dealt successfully with contexts in which a person is said to know that sentence £Hs true in L provided the expression that replaces '(£ means that p in L. There are, however, contexts in which the expression that replaces 'Q,' does not mean that p. For example, consider the following sentence: (s) Cornman knows that statement number (3) on page 29 of Philosophical Problems and Arguments is true. The sentence on page 29 is Some mushrooms are poisonous. However, though the expression 'sentence number (3) on page 29 of Philosophical Problems and Arguments' refers to the sentence 'some mushrooms are poisonous', sentence (s) is not logically equivalent to (t) Cornman knows that the sentence 'some mushrooms are poisonous' is true or to (u) Cornman knows that some mushrooms are poisonous. The reason is that Cornman might know that the sentence

38

TRUTH

AND

KNOWLEDGE

number (3) on page 29 is true even though he does not know what that sentence is and, moreover, does not know that some mushrooms are poisonous. 14 This could happen if Cornman remembered that his co-author listed a number of true statements on page 29, as examples of true a posteriori sentences, but has completely forgotten what the sentences are. In that case (s) would be true even though (t) and (u) might be false. So (s) is not logically equivalent to either (t) or (u). Moreover, there is no obvious general formula for handling sentences like (s) in order to eliminate the reference to truth. We may, however, accomplish the elimination, for (s) is logically equivalent to the following: (s') Cornman knows that there is a sentence S which is numbered (3) on page 29 of Philosophical Problems and Arguments and that there is a p such that S means that p (in L) and p. Sentence (s') is equivalent to (s) if and only if knowing that a sentence is true is logically equivalent to knowing that there is ap such that the sentence means that p and p. This equivalence of (s) and (s') might be disputed by philosophers like W. V. O. Quine who would, we may conjecture, wish to deny that locutions like eS means that p (in L)' should be allowed. 15 That notwithstanding, we have already rejected such restrictions on the use of the term 'means' for our purposes. Though no general formula has been offered for eliminating reference to truth in contexts like (s), the general strategy for elimination is to replace an expression characterizing a sentence in question with an expression asserting that there is a sentence so characterized and to eliminate the reference to truth by adding that there is a p such that the sentence means that p and p. By so doing we can eliminate the reference to truth in such contexts. Meanings, Propositions, and Truth Before concluding our discussion of truth, it is important to consider some objections to our account. First, it may be pro14 On this point compare Heidelberger, op. cit., and Strawson, 'Truth' in Philosophy and Analysis, ed. Margaret MacDonald, 260-77. 15 Quine, op. cit.

M E A N I N G S , P R O P O S I T I O N S , AND T R U T H

39

posed that by introducing the term 'means' we commit ourselves to an ontology of propositions or abstract entities. We have, of course, avoided theuse of theterm 'proposition', orany synonym for that term, but this term is commonly used to characterize what a sentence means when it means that p. Thus, to say that a sentence means that p is, on this account, equivalent to saying that the sentence means the proposition that p. Such a commitment to propositions is, I think, very likely to lead to confusion. There are two commonly held assumptions concerning propositions that lead to contradiction. The first is that, whenever a sentence S is true or false, then there is a proposition that p such that S means that p. The second is that propositions are themselves either true or false. For example, it might be said that the sentence 'some mushrooms are poisonous' means the proposition that some mushrooms are poisonous, and the proposition that some mushrooms are poisonous is true. However, this sort of theory runs into difficulty with respect to demonstrative pronouns. As Richard Cartwright has pointed out, if I utter the sentence 'This is a glass' on two separate occasions, once when I am referring to a glass and subsequently when I mistakenly believe that what I am referring to is a glass, the sentence uttered does not change meaning. Hence, the proposition that the sentence means is the same on both occasions of utterance. O n the other hand, what I asserted when I first uttered the sentence was true and what I asserted subsequently false. Therefore, if the proposition meant by the sentence is what is asserted by uttering the sentence on both occasions, then the proposition would be both true and false. The proposition that this is a glass would be both true and false which is contradictory and absurd. 16 Obviously a defender of propositions would wish to deny one or the other of the premisses of the foregoing argument. Cartwright suggests, quite plausibly, that one should deny that the meaning of a sentence is the same thing as what is asserted by uttering the sentence. 17 What is asserted by uttering the sentence may differ from one occasion to the next even though the meaning of the sentence is unchanged. This results from 16 Richard Cartwright, 'Propositions', in Analytic Philosophy, ed. Ronald Butler (Barnes and Noble, New York, 1962), 81-103, but particularly section 10, 92-5. 17 Ibid. 92-5.

40

T R U T H AND

KNOWLEDGE

the fact that some term may be used to refer to different things without the meaning of that term undergoing any change. There is some connection between the meaning of a sentence and what is asserted by uttering it: what is asserted by uttering the sentence is partially determined by the meaning of the sentence uttered. What is asserted is also partially determined by what we refer to by certain terms, for example, demonstrative pronouns. If it is thus deemed useful to introduce the notion of a proposition, there is no need to suppose that sentences mean propositions, and we shall not make such an assumption here. If the term proposition is used, it shall only be used to refer to what is asserted or what is believed. Moreover though we have used the locution 'S means that p', we need not commit ourselves to a theory concerning what meanings are. It is quite consistent with our account to argue that meanings are no more entities of the universe than are average men. Just as the average man is an arithmetical abstraction, so may the meanings of words be semantic abstractions. Thus, we have not committed ourselves to propositions at all, and we need not make any commitment concerning the ultimate character of meanings of sentences other than to deny that the meaning of a sentence is what is asserted by the utterance of that sentence. Another problem, raised by Heidelberger, concerns the use of the variable 'p' as it occurs in truth-eliminating equivalences presented by other authors. He argues that the following sentence is incoherent: There is a proposition p such that S means p and p. Consider how we are to treat the variable 'p'. Were we to substitute for the variable 'p' the expression 'that snow is white', the name of that sentence for '6", and drop the existential clause, we would obtain the following: 'Snow is white' means that the snow is white and that the snow is white. This sentence is not well formed because of the last conjunct. 18 O n the other hand, if we substitute for '/>' the sentence 'snow is white' we obtain the following: 'Snow is white' means snow is white and snow is white. 18

Heidelberger, op. cit. a i 6 .

MEANINGS, P R O P O S I T I O N S , AND T R U T H

41

It is not so clear that anything is the matter with this sentence; Heidelberger does not discuss it, but one might object that strictly speaking, 'snow is white' means that snow is white and does not mean snow is white. Such a point would not be decisive in terms of ordinary English usage because such usage allows dropping the word 'that' in these contexts. However, our formulation of truth-eliminating equivalences makes no reference to propositions and enables us to avoid such disagreements. We drop the reference to propositions and insert the word 'that' after the words 'means'. We then obtain the following sentence: There is a p such that S means that p and p. Substituting 'snow is white' for '/>', the name of the sentence for 'S\ and dropping the existential clause, we obtain: 'Snow is white' means that snow is white and snow is white. This sentence is well formed. The only objection left concerns our use of the locution 'there is a p such that . . . and p'. Heidelberger says that the last occurrence of 'p' is 'a stray variable, or a stray name if we make a substitution, with no predicate to attach to it'. 19 To see what he means, consider the locution 'there is an x such that x . . .'. Here the variable (x' must have a predicate attached to it or we arrive at nonsense. Thus, the locution 'there is an x . . . and x' is nonsense because the name that replaces V cannot stand by itself without a predicate attached, or so Heidelberger argues. However, we may have a rule in our metalanguage which tells us how variables are to be replaced in such a way that the resulting instantiations, obtained by dropping existential clauses and replacing as directed, are well formed. Such rules for the dropping of existential clauses 'there is an x such that . . .' or universal clauses 'for any x . . .', and the replacement of variables, are sufficient for logical manipulation and hence for determining the logical consequences or the logical content of the sentences containing the clauses and variables. Thus, use of the usual replacement procedures in the formulas we have employed for the elimination of the concept of truth yields 19

Ibid. 216-17.

43

T R U T H AND

KNOWLEDGE

well-formed sentences. This is shown by the substitutions considered above. Other Theories of Truth: The Correspondence Theory Formal objections to our elimination of the concept of truth from the analysis having been met, let us consider more philosophical objections. One such objection is that schemas (AT) and (CAm), which we may refer to as the elimination theory of truth, do not accomplish what a satisfactory theory of truth must achieve. A satisfactory theory of truth is one that tells us why a true sentence is true. The elimination theory merely tells us when a sentence S is true —crudely, S is true if and only if/)—but it does not tell us why sentence S is true. This objection requires some clarification that may be obtained by considering two theories of truth intended to tell us why a true sentence is true. They are the correspondence and coherence theories.. Let us first consider the correspond en re theory. According to it, the answer to the question of why a true sentence Is true may be put as follows: a sentence S is true if and only if sentence S corresponds to the facts, A true sentence is true because it corresponds to the tacts. One might ask, however, to what facts must S correspond in order to be true? One answer to this question is: the facte of observation. 20 The object of the correspondence theory of truth is to guarantee a connection between language and observable reality and thus to anchor truth in a realityof'ohseryable fact To determine whether such a theory of truth offers us some information about truth beyond that of the elimination of theory, it is important to have a more precise formulation of the correspondence theory. First, the theory must be formulated in such a way as to enable us to explain in what way general sentences and theoretical sentences must correspond to the facts in order to be true. It is easy enough to suggest that a sentence like 'This is a table' must correspond to the observable fact that this is a table for it to be true. Problems aris^ though, with such statements as 'All mules are sterile' and 'The neutrino 20 See Wilfrid Sellars's article, 'Truth and "Correspondence" '', in New Readings, 214-31.

O T H E R T H E O R I E S OF T R U T H

43

has a rest mass of O'. The generalization about mules is stronger than any set of facts about observed mules,. Even JT we include among the facts to which the generalization must correspond all observable facts about _all mules, it remains logically possible that there are other such facts about mules which might be inconsistent with the generalization. Hence, if the truth of the generalization depends upon a set of facts, the set must include not only such facts as that mule one is sterile, mule two is sterile and so forth to the fact that mule n is sterile, but also the further fact that the n mules are all the mules. If the last fact is not contained, then it remains logically possible that the generalization both corresponds to the facts about the n mules in question but is false because the n mules are not all the mules that there are. However, once the general fact that the n mules are all the mules is allowed among the facts of observation, it is apparent that we might more simply explain to what fact the generalization 'all mules are sterile' must correspond by appeal to the following: 'All mules are sterile' is true and if and only if it corresponds to the fact that all mules are sterile. Similar remarks apply to the sentence 'Neutrinos have a rest mass of O ' . It is tempting to suppose that there are some facts of observation that verify this sentence and to which it corresponds if it is true, but investigations in the philosophy of science have shown this to be a highly oversimplified account. That sentence requires for verification not only experimental observations but other theoretical sentences connecting observation terms to terms of the theory, for example sentences telling us what the observable effects of neutrinos are like, as well as ones relating theoretical terms to each other. To avoid such problems most simply, one might explain to what facts a true theoretical sentence must correspond as follows: 'Neutrinos have a rest mass of O' is true if and only if it corresponds to the fact that neutrinos have a rest mass of O. I n order to say to what facts our theoretical sentence must correspond in order to be true, we would have to include some

44

T R U T H AND KNOWLEDGE

theoretical facts or else leave open the possibility that the sentence both corresponds to the facts and is false. The preceding considerations suggest that any adequate correspondence theory of truth will have all equivalences of the following form as consequences: (CTT) S is true in L if and only if S in L corresponds to the fact that p; provided that the variable 'p' is replaced by a sentence in L and 'S' is replaced by a name of that sentence in the metalanguage of L. However, (CTT) leaves us with two unexplicated terms 'fact' and 'corresponds'. The first is easy to eliminate because the following equivalence holds: It is fact that p if and only if p. This equivalence is an exact analogue of the absolute theory of truth. The term 'corresponds' is supposed to name that relation between a sentence and fact which holds if and only if the sentence is true. Meaning is just such a relation. T h a t is, the following equivalence of correspondence and meaning holds: (ECM) S in L corresponds to the fact that p if and only if S means that p in L and p. Given this equivalence, the correspondence theory of truth reduces to the following: (CTR) Sis true in Z, if and only if5'meansthatj&inZand/>. With the minor alteration of conjoining to the left-hand side of (CTR) 'S means that p in L' in order to make the equivalence defensible against earlier objections, (CTR) becomes (CAm)—• the elimination theory! Thus the correspondence theory, rather than telling us something more than the elimination theory, reduces to it. It should not be concluded from this that those philosophers who have defended the correspondence theory were either so wise as to have anticipated the elimination theory or so foolish as to have held the elimination theory while believing that they held something more. Neither would do justice to the substance or the confusion contained in the correspondence theory of truth. The thesis that underlies this particular theory of truth is

THE COHERENCE T H E O R Y OF T R U T H

45

not a theory of truth at all but one of verification. It is: what verifies a sentence is the facts and nothing but the facts. However, the term 'verify' conceals a fundamental ambiguity. O n e meaning of the term 'verify' is 'to make true'. In this sense of the term, we may agree that a true statement is one that is verified, that is, made true, by the facts, but this contention reduces to the elimination theory of truth. There is, however, another meaning of the term 'verify', namely, 'to determine the truth'. Here the word 'determine' is used epistemically to mean 'find out'. When one says that a true statement is verified by the facts, using the term 'verify' in this sense, one is saying that we determine the truth of a statement by appeal to the facts. This thesis is not one about truth, but about how we find out or come to know the truth. It is a theory of how we justify belief and claims to knowledge. When the correspondence theory of truth is understood as a geniune theory of truth, it reduces to the elimination theory, and when it does not reduce to such a theory, then it is not a geniune theory of truth at all, but a disguised theory of epistemic justification. It should be noted that at least one philosopher, Wilfrid Sellars, has suggested that we may be able to equate truth with some form of ideally justified belief.21 Perhaps such a theory can be sustained. It is not our intention to deny it. Such ideal justification should not, however, be confused with the actual complete justification that is a condition of knowledge. As we use the expression in our analysis, a man may be completely justified in believing something which is in fact false. We shall later argue that the actual justification we have for our beliefs provides no guarantee of truth. Hence, ideal justification that might be equated with truth differs from the actual justification we have for what we believe. The justification we seek to determine whether our beliefs are true must, therefore, be distinguished from any ideal justification identical with truth. The Coherence Thetry tf Truth Finally, then, let us consider the traditional rival of the correspondence theory of truth, the coherence theory. This 21 Wilfrid Sellars, 'Are There Non-Deductive Logics?' in Essays in Honor of Carl G. Hempel, N. Rescher and other eds. (Reidel, Dordrecht-Holland, 1970), 96.

46

TRUTH

AND

KNOWLEDGE

theory says that truth does not consist of correspondence with the facts but coherence among sentences. 22 The idea is that truth does not depend on a relation between language and reality but only upon the relation between sentences, bits of language. We might formulate the theory as follows: (CohTT) S is true in L if and only if S coheres with other sentences of L. The most common objections to this theory concern the relation of coherence. It is objected that we have no proof that sets of sentences that cohere with each other will be consistent with other sets of sentences that cohere with each other, and, what is most fundamental, we have no assurance that there is one and only one set of sentences that cohere with each other. Of course, no such objection can be met until the relation of coherence is specified. Even without such a specification, we can show that either (CohTT), the coherence theory, reduces to (CAm), the elimination theory, or else the coherence theory must be rejected. If any substitution instance of the following equivalence does not hold, then the coherence theory is incorrect: S coheres with other sentences of L if and only if S means that p in L and p; provided the variable 'p' is replaced by some sentence of L and 'S' is replaced by a name of that sentence in the metalanguage of L. Such an equivalence must hold, because a sentence without meaning cannot be true, and if a sentence does mean something, that is, means that p, then the sentence is true if and only if p. It cannot be the case that the sentence is true when it is not case that p no matter how snugly the sentence coheres with other sentences. An example makes this obvious. Suppose someone says that the sentence 'the total number of leptons in the universe remains constant' is true in L if and only if S coheres with other sentences of L. This sentence, since it is a highly theoretical contention, is an example that would seem most likely to fit the coherence theory. T h e truth of the sentence would seem to 22

For a discussion of this theory, see Nicholas Rescher, The Coherence Theory of Truth (Clarendon Press, Oxford, 1973).

THE COHERENCE T H E O R Y OF T R U T H

47

depend upon the way it coheres with other sentences of the language, namely, the postulates of particle physics. Notice, however, that the sentence 'the total number of leptons in the universe remains constant' means that the total number of leptons in the universe remains constant, and consequently, is true only if the number of leptons in the universe remains constant. Therefore, if the number of leptons in the universe does not remain constant, then the sentence 'the number of leptons in the universe remains constant' is not true no matter how well it coheres with other sentences of the language. This proves that either the equivalence of 'S coheres with other sentences' and 'S means that/> and/)' must be accepted by a coherence theory or else the coherence theory will have the consequence that a true sentence, one that coheres with other sentences, could mean that p when it is not the case that p. This consequence is absurd; therefore, the equivalence in question must be conceded by the coherence theorist. Once that is conceded, it is obvious that the coherence theory reduces to the elimination theory in precisely the same manner as the correspondence theory reduces to the elimination theory. The foregoing argument has the effect of showing that both the correspondence and the coherence theories of truth must either be rejected as inadequate or else they reduce to the elimination theory. Moreover, the philosophical motivation and confusion that makes the correspondence theory appealing is the same that makes the coherence theory seem plausible. Again, the coherence theory has often been a disguised form of a theory of how we determine that a sentence is true or justify the claim to know that it is true. The epistemological theory, which we shall investigate in a later chapter, maintains that claims to know that a sentence is true are justified, not by appeal to observation, but by appeal to other sentences with which the sentence in question coheres. As such, the coherence theory is not a theory of truth at all but a theory of justification. We shall revisit those theories of justification, but.it is essential to notice that such theories are not theories of truth. They can only be masqueraded as theories of truth by affirming that a sentence is verified by cohering with other sentences, and thus play upon the ambiguity of 'verify' mentioned above.

48

T R U T H AND KNOWLEDGE

Truth and Knowledge: An Objection Before concluding our chapter on truth it is useful to mention one objection to having truth as a condition of knowing. Some are inclined to object on the grounds that we have no way of deciding whether the truth condition is satisfied until we know that it is, and therefore, making truth a condition of knowledge renders it impossible to decide whether we know anything. The answer is that such a condition of knowledge is not one that we must find to be satisfied before we find out that we know: it is rather part of an analysis of knowledge and hence a condition that must be satisfied when we know. This reply to the objection might seem to render the objection unworthy of consideration, but that is not so. I n fact, the objection reveals a confusion which has had the most deleterious impact on epistemological theories. A person, who objects in this way to truth as a condition of knowledge, is construing the analysis of knowledge as a recipe for ascertaining whether one knows. The analysis of knowledge is one thing, and the rules for deciding whether one knows are quite another. The latter are conditions of justification for knowledge claims. Once those conditions have been satisfied, a man has done all he can to find out that p or to justify his belief that p. He cannot, over and above this, check to see that all the conditions in the analysis are satisfied. There is nothing more he can do or needs to do to determine that the truth condition has been satisfied.

3

Belief and Knowledge L E T US now turn to a consideration of the second condition of knowledge contained in the following conditional: (iB) If S knows that p, then S believes that p. It is rather surprising that this condition has been a battleground of controversy. Ultimately, such controversy must be met by clarification of the concept of belief, but it will be useful to explore the objections to condition (iB) at the outset in order to appreciate the need for such clarification. Two kinds of arguments have been employed in the effort to refute (iB). The first depends on certain facts of linguistic usage. For example, it makes sense and is sometimes quite correct to say T do not believe that; I know it', or 'He does not believe that; he knows it.' This kind of argument represents an attempt to show that it is inconsistent to say both that a person knows thatp and that he believes that p and, consequently, that the former does not imply the latter. 1 The second form of argument is less ambitious and consists of offering a counterexample to (iB), the favoured kind being one in which a person gives correct answers to questions he is asked without believing that his answers are correct. The Consistency of Knowledge and Belief Let us consider the first form of argument. From the fact that it makes sense and is even correct to say T do not believe that; 1 This kind of argument is more popular with philosophers than the literature of the field reveals, and it would be hard to say who first formulated it. The late Austin Duncan-Johes remarked, 'Yet obviously, if " I think P" is used in the colloquial way, as equivalent to " I am inclined to think P", it doesn't follow from " I know P" at all, but is consistent with it.' In a footnote on the same page he remarks in support that we say, 'I don't think, I know,'. These remarks appear in 'Further Questions about " K n o w " and "Think"', Philosophy and Analysis, ed. Margaret MacDonald, 97.

5o

BELIEF AND

KNOWLEDGE

I know it' or 'He does not believe that; he knows it', it hardly follows that the thesis (iB) is false. The reason it makes sense to say these things is to be found in the study of rhetoric rather than logic. It makes sense to say 'I do not believe that; I know it', not because it is logically inconsistent to say that a man believes what he knows, but rather because this is an emphatic way of saying 'I do not only believe that: I know it.' To say the latter, however, is quite consistent with conceding that the person referred to does believe, though not only believe, what he is said to know. Similar remarks apply to the locution 'He does not believe that; he knows it.' An exact analogy to these cases is one in which it makes sense to say 'That is not a house, it is a mansion,' and the reason it makes sense is not that it is logically inconsistent to say that a house is a mansion but that rather that this is an emphatic way of saying 'That is not only a house, it is a mansion.' Indeed, that something is a mansion entails that it is a house. Once the rhetoric of emphatic utterance is understood, the logic is left untouched. We may clarify this matter by distinguishing two kinds of implication as H. P. Grice suggests. 2 When we say, T believe that . . .' or 'He believes that . . .', we often imply that the person referred to does not know what he is said to believe. Nevertheless, we deny that there is always such an implication. Where the speaker has made it clear that he does not mean to imply that the person referred to lacks knowledge, which he may do without thereby stipulating any special meaning for the words uttered, there will be no such implication. For example, if I say T am not saying whether he knows', and then add 'He believes . . .', then by uttering the latter I have not implied that the person referred to does not know what he is said to believe. Indeed, when a man says, T believe . . .' or 'He believes . . .' and there is the implication that the person referred to lacks knowledge, this is solely because the speaker has implied this. What he said does not have this implication. What is said when a speaker says that a person believes something will be perfectly consistent with what is said when a 2 H. P. Grice, 'The Causal Theory of Perception', Perceiving, Sensing, and Knowing, ed. R. Swartz (Anchor, New York, 1965), 438-72, and originally printed in Proc. Aris. Soc, supp. vol. xxxv (ig6i), 121-52. The distinction between what a speaker implies and what is implied by what he says is formulated and elaborated by Grice in Swartz, op. cit. 441-51.

THE CONSISTENCY OF KNOWLEDGE

51

speaker says that that person also knows it, even though a man who says the first thing often implies something not implied by what he says, to wit, that someone lacks knowledge. The distinction between what a speaker implies when he utters certain words and what is implied by what the speaker said, is in need of some elucidation. Sometimes a person implies something because what he said implies it, and such cases present no difficulty. Confusion is apt to arise when a person implies something not implied by what he said, because in such cases one may mistake the activity of the speaker for the logic of what he says. In order not to confuse what a speaker implies with the implications of what he says, we may employ a simple test for determining whether an implication is an implication of what is said or merely of the man speaking. Suppose that certain words are uttered and there is the implications that p. To decide whether the implication that p is an implication of what is said when those words are uttered, ask whether it is logically consistent to say T a r n not saying whether/), but . . .', where the words originally uttered by the speaker are added at the end of this locution. If it is consistent to say this, then what is said when the words in question were first uttered does not imply that p. If what is said when those words are uttered implied that p, then it would be inconsistent to utter those words and at the same time to say that one is not saying that p. For example, what is said when one utters the words 'That is a triangle' implies 'That has three sides', and thus it would be inconsistent to say 'I am not saying whether it has three sides, but it is a triangle.' 3 As we have noted, it is consistent to say 'I am not saying whether I know, but I do believe t h a t . . .' or 'I am not saying whether he knows, but he does believe that . . .'. Therefore, by applying the test proposed above, we may conclude that when one says T believe that . . .' or 'He believes that . . .' and there is the implication that the person referred to does not know what he is said to believe, this is not an implication of what is said but is merely something implied by the speaker. The existence of such implications in no way undermines condition (iB) because that is a thesis about what is said and 3 In Swartz, op. cit. 446, Grice proposes a cancellation test that closely resembles my own test.

K—c

52

BELIEF A N D

KNOWLEDGE

the implications of what is said. It is equivalent to the thesis that what is said when it is said that a person knows that p is logically inconsistent with what is said when it is said that the person does not believe that p. T h a t speakers sometimes imply that a person does not know what the speakers say the person believes is, therefore, quite irrelevant to condition (iB). ' / Know'' as a Performative Utterance A more sophisticated attack on (iB) resting upon considerations of linguistic usage is derived from the writings of J . L. Austin. In a quite famous passage Austin compared the locution, 'I promise', to the locution, 'I know'. 4 His basic contention is that uttering such words is the performance of a certain ritual which alters one's relations to others. As he puts it, when I say 'I promise', I have not merely told you what I intend to do, 'but by using this formula (performing thisritual), I have bound myself to others, and staked my reputation in a new way'. 5 Moreover, it is essential to notice that saying 'I promise' is not saying 'I have performed an especially striking feat of intending thus binding myself to others and staking my reputation in a new way.' 6 I have done that, but I have not said I have done it. Austin draws a comparison between saying ' I promise' and ' I know' in the following words. 'Similarly, saying, " I know" is taking a new plunge. But it is not saying, " I have performed a specially striking feat of cognition, superior, in the same scale as believing and being sure, even to being quite sure", for there is nothing in that scale superior to being quite sure. Just as promising is not something superior, in the same scale as hoping and intending, even to merely fully intending; for there is nothing in that scale superior to fully intending. When I say " I know!", I give others my word: I give others my authority for saying that "S is P"."7 The foregoing passage has been interpreted in support of denying condition (iB). Perhaps such interpretation results from Austin's later remark 'To suppose that " I know" is a descriptive phrase is only one example of the descriptive fallacy, so common 4 J. L. Austin, 'Other Minds', in Logic and Language, second series, ed. A. G. N. Flew (Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1959), 123-58. 5 6 7 Ibid. 142-3. Ibid. 144. Ibid.

' I K N O W AS A P E R F O R M A T I V E U T T E R A N C E

53

in philosophy. Even if some language is now purely descriptive, language was not in origin so, and much of it is still not so. Utterance of obvious ritual phrases, in the appropriate circumstances, is not describing the action we are doing, but doing it . . .' s Thus, the reasoning is that if we accept condition (iB) then we must admit that when a man says 'I know', he is describing his state as being one of belief. Since he is not describing himself at all, but is performing an epistemic ritual, according to Austin, he is not implying that he is in such a state of belief. This argument might appear to run contrary to other things that Austin himself says. For he remarks 'When I say "S is P " , I imply at least that I believe it, . . .' 9 Now, if a man says, 'I know that S is P', thus giving others his authority for saying that S is P, surely he has said that S is P and thus at least implied that he believes that S is P. It would seem to follow from Austin's own account that when a man says T know that p\ he implies that he believes that p. As we have noted, however, from the fact that a man implies something when he speaks, it does not follow that what he implies is implied by what he has said. It is consistent with Austin's remarks to suppose that when a man says T know that />' he is performing a special ritual of giving others his word and has not said that he believes anything nor decribed his state of mind in any way at all. But is Austin's argument any good? There is reason for rejecting it. Austin seems to have created a false dichotomy. A man may use words to perform a special ritual and also use them descriptively, both at the same time. A man who says to a waiter T would like some wine, Steinberger Beerenauslese 1959' has both performed the ritual act of ordering some wine, a very special wine at that, and also described himself as one who would like some of that wine. Here the descriptive use of words is perfectly compatible with the performative use. As R. M. Chisholm has said, to suppose that a performative use of words precludes a descriptive use might well be called the performative fallacy.10 Is one who argues that T know' is not descriptive because it is performative guilty of such a fallacy ? It would seem so, for, 8

9 Ibid. 146-7. Ibid. 143. R. M. Chisholm, Theory of Knowledge, 17.

10

54

BELIEF AND

KNOWLEDGE

even if Austin is correct in declaring that when I say, 'I know that S is P', I give others my authority for saying that S is P, the performance of this act is perfectly consistent with describing oneself as believing with complete justification that S is P. Indeed, the assumption that I am so describing myself when I say 'I know that S is P', helps to explain the way in which I give my authority for saying that S is P by saying 'I know that Sis P'. I give my authority by affirming my belief and complete justification for believing that S is P. Indeed, if what I have said when I say 'I know that S is P' did not imply that I believed that S is P or that I was completely justified in such a belief, and therefore was perfectly consistent with my neither believing nor being justified in believing that S is P, then why in the world should saying 'I know that S is P' be taken as giving my authority for saying that S is P? It might more reasonably be taken as an expression of opinionless agnosticism. The two preceding appeals to linguistic usage are closely allied and embody a similar misunderstanding. In both cases some aspect of the linguistic usage of the words 'know' and 'believe'is taken as evidence against condition (iB) which affirms that if one knows that/), then one believes that p. None the less, both arguments fail because the feature of usage, in one case special emphasis, in the other a special performance, does not yield the desired conclusion. This happens because it is consistent with these features of usage to suppose that a man who says he knows that p has said something that implies that he believes that p. To reinforce our position, we may take note of an argument by D. M . Armstrong. He points out that a man who says T know that p' may express certainty that p. It is, moreover, just this kind of expression of certainty that gives others the right to take me as giving my authority for saying that p.11 The performance of giving one's authority is accomplished precisely by expressing certainty in this way. If, however, a man expresses certainty by saying T know that p\ this surely implies that he believes that p. Hence, the first-person use of 'know' ultimately is the one in which the implication of belief is most clear. The preceding discussion fixed upon the first-person use of 11 David Armstrong, 'Does Knowledge Entail Belief?', Proc. Aris. Soc. lxx (1969-70), 21-36.

KNOWING BUT BELIEVING ONE DOES NOT

55

the words 'know' and 'believe' because this use of the words has some special features. Austin insists that his analysis applies only to the first-person usage, and it must be added that the implication of certainty is unique to the first-person use of 'know'. 1 2 When I say 'I know that the wine was not what I ordered', I am expressing certainty, but when I say of another 'He knows that the wine was not what I ordered', I am not saying that he is certain. I am saying that he knows and hence that he believes that the wine was not what I ordered, but I do not say he is certain of it. The first-person implication of certainty may well be construed as an implication of the speaker rather than of what he said, and thus cannot be made the basis of an argument to demonstrate the truth of (iB). It only shows that those features of first-person use of the term to which philosophers appeal in order to refute (iB) are completely consistent with the truth of (iB). Knowing but Believing one does not Let us now consider the second form of argument directed against (iB), the attempt to produce a counterexample. The best instance of such an argument I have found is in an article by Colin Radford, who has carefully constructed an example which it seems correct to describe as a case in which a man knows something he does not believe. 13 The example concerns a man, Jean, who protests quite sincerely that he does not know any English history, but when quizzed is able to answer some history questions correctly, for example, ones concerning the dates of the death of Elizabeth and James I. Jean also makes some mistakes—indeed, he misses more often than he hits the mark— and he cannot tell when he is right and when wrong. J e a n thinks he is guessing all along. Because he thinks he is guessing, he is not inclined to believe his answers are correct. Nevertheless, Radford contends that we should say that J e a n knows some 12

Austin, op. cit. 143, footnote 1. Much of Radford's attack in the article 'Knowledge—By Examples', Analysis, xxvii (1966), 1—11, is directed against the thesis that a person knows that/> only if he is sure or feels sure that p. The examinee example was considered by A. D. Woozley, 'Knowing and Not Knowing', Proc. Aris. Soc. liii (1953), 151-72, and by L. Jonathan Cohen, 'Claims to Knowledge', Proc. Aris. Soc, supp. vol. xxxvi (1962), 33-50. 13

56

BELIEF AND

KNOWLEDGE

history. For example, J e a n gives the correct answer to the question concerning the year of Elizabeth's death, and so he knows the answer: that Elizabeth died in 1603. Radford bolsters this contention by asking us to suppose that J e a n has previously learned these dates and, consequently, that the reason he gives correct answers is that he remembers them. Must we concede that J e a n knows that Elizabeth died in 1603 even though he does not believe (or disbelieve) that this is so? 1 4 We may resist the inclination to do so, if any exists, by arguing that Jean does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603. The crucial premiss of such a counterargument is that, though he knows some correct answers, he does not know that these answers are correct. This is shown by the fact that he has no idea which of his answers are correct, and would be unable to tell the correct answers from the incorrect ones. Thus, though J e a n answers the question concerning the death of Elizabeth correctly, he does not know that his answer is correct. But what does he need to know in order to know that his answer, that Elizabeth died in 1603, is correct ? To know it is correct, all he needs to know is that Elizabeth did, in fact, die in 1603. If he knew that she died in 1603, then he would also know that his answer is correct, but he does not know his answer is correct. Therefore, J e a n does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603. We have, from one example, elicited contradictory conclusions. Let us look at the arguments side by side. Put schematically, Radford's argument is as follows: (1) J e a n knows the correct answer to the question. (2) The correct answer to the question is that Elizabeth died in 1603. (3) If J e a n knows the correct answer and the correct answer is that Elizabeth died in 1603, then J e a n knows that Elizabeth died in 1603. (4) J e a n knows that Elizabeth died in 1603. The opposing argument is as follows: (1) J e a n does not know that his answer is correct. (2) Jean's answer is that Elizabeth died in 1603. 14 The argument that follows as well as other material in this chapter is taken from an earlier article by the author, 'Belief and Knowledge', Philosophical Review, lxxviii (1968), 491-9.

KNOWING BUT BELIEVING ONE DOES NOT

57

(3) If J e a n does not know that his answer is correct and Jean's answer is that Elizabeth died in 1603, then J e a n does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603. (4) J e a n does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603. The two arguments are equally persuasive, and, moreover, there is no equivocation in the word 'know' in the conclusions of these arguments to lessen the force of the contradiction. With such contradictory conclusions cogently defended, must we concede that the concept of knowledge is contradictory? Is knowledge impossible? Fortunately, there is no need to concede the impossibility of knowledge. Instead, we may reject premiss (3) of Radford's argument. We may say that Jean knows the correct answer, that Elizabeth died in 1603, but deny that Jean knows that Elizabeth died in 1603. To see why, consider an example in which a man knows the correct answer to a question about the date of Elizabeth's death even though he is guessing and thus does not know that she died in 1603. Imagine another man, George, who is on a quiz programme and is asked the date of Elizabeth's death. He answers: '1603'. You, not having heard the answer, ask me, 'Did George know the correct answer?' To this question I could reply in the affirmative. Moreover, it might not matter whether I thought George was guessing or not. When the quizmaster says 'George, if you know the answer to the question I am about to ask, you will win that 1973 Ford', he does not intend to withhold the Ford if George guesses correctly. O n the contrary, in this context to give the correct answer is to know the correct answer. When you asked, 'Did George know the correct answer?' I could have answered 'Yes, but I think it was just a lucky guess.' There is no question of whether George knows the correct answer once he gives it. He knew. Away he drives. Thus George, like Jean, knows the correct answer, that Elizabeth died in 1603. George knew just as J e a n did, even though George was guessing. Though we concede that George knew the correct answer, we should want to insist that he did not know that Elizabeth died in 1603. A lucky guess that p is not a case of knowing that p. The preceding argument shows that there are contexts in which it would be acceptable to say

58

BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE

that a man knows the correct answer, which is that p, but would be clearly false to say the man knows that p. A Proof that Knowledge Implies Beliej On the basis of these considerations we can prove that any case in which a man does not believe that p is also a case in which he does not know that p. Moreover, we shall base this conclusion on a premiss Radford himself defends. Radford, while asserting that J e a n knows that Elizabeth died in 1603, concedes that it would be in some way improper for Jean, who thinks he is guessing, to say that he knows that Elizabeth died in 1603. He maintains its impropriety is due to the fact that J e a n does not believe that he knows that Elizabeth died in 1603. As to why Jean does not believe that he knows this fact, Radford says that it is a necessary condition of a man believing that he knows that p that the man believes that p. And that is the premiss on which we may build an argument. The preceding premiss may be reformulated as follows. If a man does not believe that p, then he does not believe that he knows that p. I think it is quite obvious, as Radford admits, that this is true, but we need one additional premiss. 15 If a man does not believe that he knows that p, then, even though he correctly says that p and knows he has said that p, he does not know that he correctly says that/). The reason for accepting this premiss is simply that if a man does not believe that he knows that p, then, even if he correctly says that p and knows he has said it— in a quiz, for example—he should, if he is honest, not say he knows that his answer is correct. If we ask such a man 'Do you know whether the answer you have given is correct?' the only right answer is 'No'. To these two premises we may add an assumption employed earlier, to wit, that if, even though a man correctly says that p and knows he has said that p, he does not know he correctly says that p, then he does not know that p. This assumption rests on the fact that if a man correctly says that p and knows that he has said that p, then all he needs to know in order to know that he correctly says that p is simply to know that p. From the preceding premisses we may conclude that if a 15

Radford, op. cit. 10-11.

AN OBJECTION

59

person does not believe that p, then he does not know that p. Formally, the argument is as follows: (1) If S does not believe that p, then S does not believe that he knows that p. f (2) If S does not believe that he knows that p, then, even though S correctly says that p and knows that he has said that p, S does not know that he correctly says that p. (3) If, even though S correctly says that/> and knows he has said that p, S does not know that he correctly says that p, then S does not know that p. (4) If S does not believe that p, then S does not know that

PConclusion (4) follows from the preceding premisses by elementary logic and, of course, it is equivalent to our original thesis. Informally, the argument is as follows. Suppose a man—for example, Jean—does not believe that Elizabeth died in 1603. In that case he obviously would not believe that he knew that Elizabeth died in 1603. Imagine that J e a n happens to say, perhaps in response to a question, that Elizabeth died in 1603. Since J e a n does not believe that he knows that she died in 1603, then, as he himself must admit, Jean does not know that he is correct about the date of Elizabeth's death. If, however, he does not know that he is correct about this, then he does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603, for that is all he would need to know in order to know that he is correct. Thus, if Jean, or anyone else, does not believe that Elizabeth died in 1603, then he does not know that she died in 1603. Therefore, if a person does not believe that p, then he does not know that p; and, equivalent^/, but less negatively, if a person knows that p, then he believes that p. This proves (iB). An Objection: Remembrance without Belief Radford has objected to the preceding argument on the grounds that the question has been begged against him. 1 6 He contends that his example shows precisely that one can know 16 Colin Radford, '"Analysing" 'Know(s) That", Philosophical Quarterly, xx (1970), 228-9.

BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE

6o

the correct answer to a question (and not just guess) and yet not know the answer is correct. In support of this he appeals to the consideration that one may remember that p, and hence know that p from memory, when one does not know that one knows that/), believe that one knows thatj&, or even believe that p. Indeed, the example concerning Jean, as spelled out in detail, is one in which he has previously learned that Elizabeth died in 1603, though he has forgotten having learning it, and thus gives the right answer because he remembers what he once learned. He remembers even though he does not know or believe himself to have done so, and consequently believes he is guessing. Since J e a n is remembering, he knows that p, even though he does not believe he knows, thinks he is guessing, and does not believe that p. There is another quite similar sort of example that should be considered at this juncture, for, like Radford's, it is persuasive, and the reply to both examples is quite similar. Another philosopher, E. J . Lemmon, presented the following as an example to show that a man may know that p but not know that he knows that p.17 A man, Alan say, who some time ago learned about the number pi when he studied geometry, is asked 'What is the expansion of pi to four decimal places?' Alan replies 'I don't know', and his answer is quite sincere. After a moment, he suddenly remembers, and says 'Yes I do, it is 3-1416.' Lemmon contends that at the time at which the man said, 'I don't know', he did in fact know, as is shown by his subsequent remark. So, when Alan said he did not know, he did know, but he did not know that he knew. H e only knew that he knew once he remembered the expansion of pi. This example, though directed against the thesis that if a man knows that p, then he knows that he knows that p, might equally well be employed against the argument offered in defence of (iB). This follows because premisses (2) and (3) of that argument entail that if a man knows that p, then he believes that he knows that p. It could thus be contended that Alan, when he says he does not know, does not believe that he knows though in fact he does. Consequently, premisses (2) and (3) could not both be true. 17

E . J . Lemmon, 'If I Know, Do I Know that I Know?', in Epistemology: New Essays in the Theory of Knowledge, ed. A. Stroll (Harper and Row, New York, 1967), 54-83, but particularly 63.

BORDERLINE CASES OF KNOWLEDGE

61

This example can be made to bear even more directly on (iB) by slight amendment. Suppose we have another man, Steven, and we ask him. Ts 3-1416 the expansion of pi to four decimal places ?' Steven, who studied mathematics a good time ago and is not much interested in our question anyway, might, without much reflection and with some irritation, reply 'I don't know.' Like Alan, Steven immediately recalls his mathematics, quickly adds. ' O h yes, I do know, pi is 3-1416 when expanded to four decimal places, and it is 3-1415926536 when expanded to ten', and looks quite smug. In this example, it could be contended that the man did know that 3-1416 is the expansion of pi to four decimal places when he said he did not know, as his immediately subsequent feat of memory showed. He did not believe he knew, however, nor did he believe 3-1416 to be the expansion of pi to four decimal places when first he spoke. Thus, we seem here to have a counterexample both to a consequence of premisses (2) and (3) in our proof, to wit, that if a man knows that p, then he believes he knows that p, and also to (iB), to wit, that if a man knows that p, then he believes that p. Borderline Cases of Knowledge What are we to say to these arguments against our proof of (iB) and (iB) itself? The most direct reply is one conceded by Radford. At one point, Radford admits that his examples are borderline cases of knowledge. 18 This is precisely the case, but what is a borderline case ? To say that a case is borderline means there are quite conclusive considerations in favour of applying the term, and equally conclusive considerations in favour of not applying it. For example, if we see something that is very similar in colour to many red things, so much so that this is quite conclusive reason for saying that the object is red; but at the same time it is very similar to things that are orange and not red, so much so that is quite conclusive reason for saying that the thing is not red, then we have a borderline case of something red. Such cases abound. For most terms of everyday speech, we can expect to find that the term applies without doubt or controversy in a large number of cases, and that it also clearly 18

Radford, 'Knowledge—By Examples', p. 4, footnote 1.

62

BELIEF AND

KNOWLEDGE

fails to apply in many cases, but in between these cases there are examples of things where it is not evident whether or not the term applies no matter how much one knows about the example. Here we are very likely to conclude that the case is borderline. Debate on whether the term applies in such cases can produce arguments and profound speculation, but no one can win because the case is precisely one in which the application of the term is not fixed. As S. Korner has suggested, such terms are inherently inexact, and, therefore, the decision to apply or not to apply the term in borderline cases is a matter of choice. 19 If we wish to defend (iB) by maintaining that the cases of Jean, Alan, and Steven are all borderline for the application of the word 'know', two tasks remain. First, we must show that the cases are genuinely borderline, and, second, we must justify our choice of applying epistemic terms in the manner required for the truth of (iB) and the soundness of our proof of Some argument for the conclusion that Jean's is a borderline case of knowledge has already been given in the earlier presentation of two persuasive arguments, one yielding the conclusion that J e a n does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603, and the other the exact opposite. Similar argument may be offered in the cases of Alan and Steven. Since each sincerely reports and believes that he does not know, neither knows that the correct answer to the question is 3-1416 at the time of his report. In order to know that 3-1416 is the correct answer, however, all that either man would have to know is that 3-1416 is the expansion of pi to four decimal places. Hence, neither man knows that 3-1416 is the expansion of pi to four decimal places when he says he does not know. This argument is in direct opposition to Lemmon's which was that, since Steven and Alan have not learned the answer to the question between the time of their first and second remarks, each must have known all along that 3-1416 was the expansion of pi to four decimal places. Hence again there are equally persuasive arguments for contradictory conclusions. The arguments could be countered. To refute the argument 19

Stephan Korner, Experience and Theory (Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1966), 19-47.

KNOWLEDGE AND C O N V I C T I O N

63

supporting the conclusion that they do know, one could say, with Radford, that a man may know the correct answer, namely, that p, and know that p, even though he does not know that the answer is correct. And to refute the argument supporting the conclusion that Alan and Steven do not know, one could reply that a man may come to know something without learning anything new, in just the way Alan and Steven came . to know the expansion of pi after correctly reporting that they did not know, namely, by remembering it. Such arguments and counterarguments concerning these examples cannot settle the matter precisely because the examples are borderline cases. I t is precisely like arguing whether something is red when it is as close to red as it is to orange. And no argument can settle that. Knowledge and Conviction Moreover, it is perfectly clear what makes these cases borderline. A perfectly straightforward case of believing or knowing that p must be one in which a man is convinced of the truth of p and is prepared to say so. When such conviction is lacking, then a man may sincerely deny that he believes or knows that p, and there will be good reason for agreeing with him. If there is also good reason for saying that he does believe or know that/* in such a case, as there may well be, then there will be good reason for each of the contradictory conclusions, i.e. he believes that/), he does not, and he knows that/>, he does not. Thus, it is precisely the absence of such conviction that p and the attendant lack of readiness to report that p, or that one knows that p, which makes these cases borderline. We shall eventually defend choosing to regard those cases, in which such conviction that/) is lacking, as being cases of neither knowing nor believing. Hence Jean, Steven, and Alan are all to be taken at their word when they say that they do not know. - Before defending this ruling, we should notice that we beg no question. As we shall now show, whether or not one assumes that a conviction that p and the attendant readiness to report that p are conditions of knowledge and belief, condition (iB), and . the premisses used in support of it, all turn out to be true, provided that one either adds or deletes the requirement of

64

BELIEF AND

KNOWLEDGE

conscious conviction from all uses of the terms 'believe' and 'know'. 2 0 First let us suppose that a conviction that p and readiness to report that p in appropriate circumstances are conditions of believing that p as well as knowing that p. I n that case, we find in both the Radford and the Lemmon example that the supposed knower is ignorant. The man in each example who is alleged to have knowledge that p, is neither convinced that p nor ready to assert that p at the time in question. Of course, the man in Lemmon's example ultimately asserts that p, but he lacks the readiness to assert that p at the time he is first questioned. This example helps to illustrate the sort of circumstance I wish to specify by the word 'appropriate'. There is a readiness to assert that p in appropriate circumstances only if an answer that p is forthcoming in response to an understood question that one desires (without conflict) to answer correctly. Neither of these counterexamples succeeds, therefore, on this supposition. Now let us consider the opposite assumption, namely, that neither a conviction that p nor a readiness to assert that p are conditions of knowledge or belief. This is the assumption that the two examples depend upon, for both Lemmon and Radford assume that a man knows something which he is neither convinced of nor ready to assert. The man in Radford's example does answer that Elizabeth died in 1603, but without the conviction that characterizes assertion. If, however, such lack of conviction and readiness to report are compatible with knowledge and belief, then both Radford and Lemmon fail to prove their point in another way. Radford assumes that the man does not believe that p because he says he is guessing. This does not follow on the current assumption. We have assumed that a man can know or believe that p even though he lacks conviction that p and a readiness to assert that p. That the man thinks he is guessing that p shows that he lacks such conviction and readiness to assert, but it fails to prove that he does not believe that p. Indeed, under the current assumption, a man may say in all sincerity that he neither believes nor disbelieves that p, even though he does in fact believe that p, 30 The argument that follows is taken from an earlier article by the author 'Believing that One Knows', Synthese, xxi (1970), 133-40.

KNOWLEDGE AND C O N V I C T I O N

65

just as he may say that he does not know that p, even though in fact he does know that p. The current line of argument is even more straightforward with respect to the Lemmon example. Lemmon assumes that a man can know that p at a time when he lacks conviction that p and is not then ready to assert that p. When it comes to knowing that one knows that p, the assumption is suddenly reversed, however. When the man says he does not know the expansion of pi to four decimal places, Lemmon takes this to show that, though the man knows that pi expanded to four decimal places is 3-1416, he does not know that he knows. The truth is that just as a man might be said to know that pi expanded to four decimal places is 3-1416 when he lacks conviction and a readiness to assert that/ii expanded to four decimal places is 3-1416, so he might be said to know that he knows that pi expanded to four decimal places is 3^1416 when he lacks conviction and a readiness to report that he knows that pi expanded to four decimal places is 3-1416. I n short, both the Radford example and the Lemmon example fail for the same reason. The former wishes to show that there may be knowledge without belief and the latter that there may be knowledge without knowledge that one knows. Both take conviction and a readiness to report as a condition of the application of the epistemic term they wish to prove not to apply, while rejecting these as conditions of the epistemic term they wish to assume does apply. This is illegitimate precisely because these epistemic terms may all be used either as having such conditions as requirements of application or as not having them. When we consistently assume that such conditions are not required for the terms 'know' and 'believe', then the alleged counterexamples fail. The crucial point may best be illustrated by considering the thesis: if a man knows, then he believes that he knows. If any of our theses are countered by the examples in question, this is the one that seems most directly affected. I n both examples, the man says that he does not know when it is assumed that he does know. This is taken as showing that the man does not believe that he knows. The argument derives its persuasiveness from a presumed, though not explicit, connection between sincere affirmation and belief. The presumption is that if a man says in all sincerity that he does not believe something, then he

66

BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE

does not believe the thing he says he does not believe. However, this presumption runs contrary to our assumption that knowledge and belief do not require conviction and a readiness to assert. Moreover, our assumption is perfectly consistent with one way in which the epistemic terms are used in careful and sophisticated ordinary usage. That a man sincerely says that he does not know that p does not prove that he does not believe that he knows that p. Indeed, there is nothing incongruous about the fact that a man might deny in all sincerity that he knows that p even though he knows that p, believes that p, believes that he knows that p, and knows that he knows that p. If a man sincerely says that p, then, of course, he believes in some sense what he says. We may concede that there is both a sense in which he believes it and a sense in which he does not. The same can be said of knowledge. In the sense in which knowledge and belief require a conviction and a readiness to assert, the man who says in all sincerity that he does not know that p, neither knows that he knows nor believes that he knows that p; but in the sense in which knowledge and belief do not require these conditions, the same man may both know and believe that he knows that p. As long as these two different uses of 'belief and 'know' are carefully distinguished, and the terms employed in thesis (iB) and the proof of (iB) are used in one way only, there are no counterexamples to them. The Requirement of Conviction I n the preceding argument we have spoken of the two different senses of'believe' and 'know' depending on whether there is the implication of a conviction that p on the part of the person said to know or believe that p. Some philosophers might object that the difference of implication is not due to an ambiguity in these words but to conflicting criteria for the application of each word in a single sense. Such disputes may be left to be settled within semantic theory. Our present task is to justify restricting the use of these terms in such a way that there is always the implication that the person said to believe or know has a conviction that p, even though we admit that the term is also commonly used in such a way as not to have this implication. Radford suggests that one who argues in defence of (iB) as

THE R E Q U I R E M E N T OF C O N V I C T I O N

67

we have is 'in the grip of a philosophical theory'. He also contends that a philosophical theory must not distort the phenomena, or if it does distort the phenomena, it is acceptable only if it is very fertile. 21 It should be noticed, however, that any coherent theory that does not lead to contradictory conclusions concerning the borderline cases we have been considering must 'distort' our inconsistent ordinary usage of the terms 'know' and 'believe'. For most purposes of everyday speech we can afford the semantic imperfection that yields the sort of contradictory conclusions we have derived from the study of J e a n and company, but an acceptable theory must eliminate such imperfection for the sake of consistency. We shall require that the epistemic terms in question carry the implication of conviction, for this will enable us to extricate our employment of the terms from the contradictions noted earlier. Such a requirement leads directly to the conclusion that Jean, Alan, and Steven do not know that p when they say they do not know, because they then lack conviction that p. By so doing, we are not dogmatically ruling out the possibility that some theory of knowledge might be constructed which would rule in the opposite direction, to wit, against the implication of such conviction. We should welcome the development of such a theory. However, as we affirmed earlier, our concern is to present a theory of knowledge and j ustification to explain how we are justified in our claims to knowledge. Since we are attempting to explain the justification of claims to knowledge, we are only concerned with knowledge in which a man would claim to know and thus claim justification for what he avers. Such cases are going to be ones in which the person in question is convinced that p and ready to report that p in the appropriate circumstances. To put the matter another way, when a man claims to know that p, he may be challenged to formulate why he believes that p. O u r theoretical objective is to explain how such a challenge may be met. Again, such a claims require a subject with a conviction he is ready to express. Finally, it is important to notice that not only are we concerned exclusively with those cases of knowing that p in which there is a conviction that p, but we shall also restrict our consideration to those cases of knowing that p in which the subject 21

Radford, '"Analysing" 'Know(s) That", 228-9.

68

BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE

believes that he knows that p. It is only when a man believes, that is, is convinced, that he knows that p, that he may legitimately claim to know and thus be called upon to explain how he knows or why he believes that p. Hence, our earlier adoption of the assumption that if a man knows that p, then he believes that he knows that p. Only when a man is convinced and ready to report that he knows does the question of justification arise. In defence of the foregoing restriction, it should be added that our decision to require the implication of conviction that p when a man believes or knows that p, and the conviction that he knows that p when he does know that p, is nothing arbitrary or idiosyncratic. It is warranted by the fact that our edifice of scientific knowledge and practical wisdom depends upon the social context in which criticism and defence determine which claims are to be employed as the postulates of scientific systems and the information for practical decisions. In such contexts, when a man thinks he is but guessing or when he admits ignorance, he is taken at his word; for, such a man is not willing to make the sort of epistemic commitments that would enable us to check his cognitive credentials. Of course, we may well be interested in his reasons, if he has any, for conjecturing what he does, but this is quite different from asking whether he is completely justified in his claim to knowledge. An affirmative answer to that question not only shows the man has knowledge, it also transfers that knowledge to those who understand the justification and apprehend its merit. Our theoretical concern with critical reasoning, and our attempt to explain how such reasoning succeeds, warrants our decision to rule that knowledge and belief must involve the forms of conviction cited above. The foregoing results show that we might formulate (iB) to read as follows: (iBC) If S knows that p, then S is convinced that p. It is belief in the form of conviction that we require as a condition of knowledge. Moreover, we have employed two premisses in the proof of (iB) that yield: (iBK) If S knows that p, then S is convinced that S knows that p.

KNOWLEDGE

WITHOUT

CONVICTION

69

O u r justification for both (iBC) and (iBK) is based on the kind of theory of knowledge and justification we are seeking to construct, to wit, one which will explain how knowledge claims are justified. This completes our defence of (iB) interpreted as (iBC). Knowledge without Conviction: Objections and Replies Before concluding our chapter, it will be useful to comment on certain objections that have been raised, not against (iBC), but against (iBK). Strictly speaking we could ignore these objections and yet affirm (iBC), but since we have employed (iBK) in our proof of (iB), this would be inappropriate. Moreover, by considering the sort of objections raised against (iBK), we shall be able to clarify the difference between other approaches to the theory of knowledge and the one here pursued. David Annis, following Arthur Danto, has argued that a man might know that something is true even though he does not believe he knows because the man lacks the concept of knowledge. 22 Thus, Annis argues that a person, for example a child, might have learned to tell that certain things are red, and to assert that they are red, even though he does not understand the word 'know' or any synonym. According to Annis, such a person would have the concept of a thing being red, and, therefore, know and believe that certain things are red, while at the same time lacking the concept of knowledge, and thus neither know nor believe that he knows anything. Hence he knows that p, but he does not believe he knows that p. This would refute (iBK). The argument Annis presents is based on the assumption that a person can know something without having the concept of knowledge. It must be immediately conceded to Annis that a person can know something without understanding the word 'know' or any synonym. T h a t does not settle the matter, however, for, even though a man does not understand the word 'know' or any synonym, he may yet have the concept of 22 David Annis, 'A Note on Lehrer's Proof that Knowledge Entails Belief, Analysis, xxix (1968-9), 207-8; and Arthur C. Danto, 'On Knowing That We Know', in Epistemology: New Essays in the Theory of Knowledge, ed. A. Stroll, pp. 32-53, particularly section vi, pp. 49-53.

70

BELIEF AND K N O W L E D G E '

knowledge. To see that this is so, imagine a man who, though he does not understand the word 'red' or any synonym, but otherwise has a high degree of linguistic competence, learns a game in which landing on a red square is necessary to winning the game. Moreover, imagine that to win one must shout out 'Revolution!' when one lands on such a square. Now playing with the man in question might convince us beyond any doubt that he knows when he has landed on a red square. This conviction may be reinforced if the man tells us the winning square is different from another square, a green one, in the way in which a ripe tomato is different from one that has not yet begun to ripen. The fact that he has neither the word 'red' nor any synonym for that word in his understanding vocabularly surely fails to show that he lacks the concept of redness. By the same reasoning, the fact that the boy in the Annis example does not understand the word 'know' or any synonym fails to show that he lacks the concept of knowledge. Suppose the boy says 'That is red', and, when confronted with opposition, insists doggedly that he is right, backing up his insistence with relevant argumentation, for example, comparison between the colour of the object in question and other objects conceded to be red. In this case, the boy is not just saying, 'That is red', he is claiming to know. It is quite clear that the boy thinks he knows, indeed, knows he knows, even if his vocabulary lacks the word 'know' or any synonym of that word. Whether or not he has the word, he believes he knows and in this sense has the concept of knowledge. Construed in this way, the case is not a counterexample to (iBK). To obtain a counterexample, Annis must ask us to imagine that the boy who says 'That is red', is not claiming to know. The boy must therefore not be prepared to insist on what he says and defend it with cogent argumentation. Such insistence and defence would show that the boy thinks he knows. If, however, the boy does hot exhibit such insistence and defence, but instead responds to questioning in a more uncertain and doubtful manner, then we have reason for concluding that he does not know that the object is red. His response places him in the same category with J e a n who is similarly uncertain and doubtful. Even if what the boy has said is correct, the lack of conviction he exhibits gives us grounds for denying that he

KNOWLEDGE W I T H O U T C O N V I C T I O N

71

knows that what he says is correct. Assuming that the boy understands what he says, if he knows that the object is red, he would also know that what he said is correct. Therefore, our grounds for denying that the boy knows what he said is correct are also grounds for denying that he knows that the object is red. Construing the case in this way does not yield a counterexample to (iBK) either. The upshot of the preceding arguments is a dilemma for Annis. Either the boy knows that what he says is correct, in which case he believes he knows the object is red and the counterexample fails for this reason; or the boy does not know that what he says is correct, in which case he does not know the object is red and the counterexample fails for that reason. We claim Annis cannot slip between the horns. The preceding argument shows that we may throw the example Annis presents in the same barrel of borderline cases that already contains those ofJean, Alan, and Steven. However, the barrel is by now bulging a bit, and this may awaken some doubts about our decision to exclude such cases. T o put all such doubts to rest, let us consider another objection which comes from the philosopher Annis follows, Arthur Danto. We may adopt an argument from Danto, intended to be a counterargument against (iBK). Suppose we consider a man, who, unlike the person in Annis's example, has the concept of knowledge but, being a sceptic, denies that it applies. 23 Thus, in opposition to such a common-sense philosopher as Thomas Reid or G. E. Moore, this sceptic denies that he knows that he sees the hand before his very eyes. He believes and is convinced that he does not know that there is a hand before his eyes even though he holds his hand directly before himself. Moreover, he is not visually or mentally defective; on the contrary, he is a very clever defender of ignorance, one with whom we shall become much better acquainted in a later chapter. H e might even go as far as to deny that anyone knows anything, but he need not be so extreme. Danto suggests that such a man obviously does know the very thing he sincerely denies he knows, to wit, that there is a hand before his eyes. So, according to Danto, this man knows that there is a hand before his eyes even though he does not believe he knows this, and, indeed, is convinced that he does not. 23

Danto, op. cit.

7a

BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE

Again we have an argument to show that the man does not know. For even when we ask him whether he knows that there is a hand before his eyes, he sincerely says that he does not know, and, therefore, does not know that it would be correct to say that there is a hand before his eyes. In order to know that it would be correct to say that there is a hand before his eyes, however, all that he would have to know is that there is a hand before his eyes. Since he does not know that it would be correct to say that, he does not know that there is a hand before his eyes. Hence, by this argument, we are again warranted in concluding that this example is at best a borderline case of knowledge, and, consequently, we may choose to conclude that it, along with the other alleged counterexamples, is not a case of knowledge. Memory without Knowledge At this point, we must honestly face the question, why do all these cases seem to be examples of knowledge to the philosophers in question ? The answer is that we often ascribe knowledge to others in order to explain, in a common-sense manner, why they are correct. In each of the cases considered, someone is in a position to say something, either at the time he disavows knowledge or very shortly thereafter, which warrants our concluding that the man was in a position to give the right answer. It is not just a matter of luck that he can give a correct answer. On the contrary, it is because he acquired knowledge in the past that it is possible for him to come up with the correct answer now. If we suppose that the knowledge has vanished, then it seems difficult to explain how he can now be in a position to give the correct answer. For the purposes of explaining how he can now be in a position to give a correct answer, we conclude that the knowledge has not vanished. He still knows. This very natural way of explaining correct answers is, however, highly defective, for something extremely important has disappeared in spite of such answers, namely, the conviction of knowledge and/or truth. I n the absence of such conviction, there results a refusal to defend a claim to know and the lack of justificatory support. The difference between the man who, convinced he knows that p, is ready to defend the claim that

MEMORY W I T H O U T KNOWLEDGE

73

he knows, and a man who does not know what knowledge is, or thinks he is just guessing that p, or who thinks there is no such thing as knowledge, is sufficiently great that we may justifiably mark the distinction by refusing to say that the latter knows that p. By doing so, we shall in no way prevent ourselves from explaining how a man can manage to give the correct answer, that p, without knowing that p. The latter contention is supported by the application of another argument derived from Armstrong. 2 4 In a reply to Radford, he asks us to imagine a case in which a man, asked about the date of the death of Elizabeth, answers: 'Elizabeth died in 1306.' Now this answer, though incorrect, is sufficiently similar to the correct answer, 1603, so that we can see that it is not a mere matter of chance that he gave this answer. We cannot explain this man's answer by affirming that he knows that Elizabeth died in 1603, for, the numbers 6 and 3 having been transposed in his memory, he does not know that Elizabeth died in 1603. (To clarify this we may even imagine that when asked 'Are you sure it was not 1603', the man replies that he is sure it is 1306.) Just as it would be incorrect to explain why this man gives the answer he does by affirming that he knows the date of Elizabeth's death, so explaining why J e a n and the others are able to give a correct answer, by affirming that they know, would be otiose. A theory of memory that explains how memory produces the results it does, whether correct or incorrect, does not require us to assume that a man knows his answer is correct whenever memory enables him to produce a correct answer. To do so would be to lump together the cases in which memory only functions well enough to yield a correct answer with those cases in which it produces conviction and justification. O u r contention is that sometimes memory is good enough to give us a correct answer when it is not good enough to give us knowledge that the answer is correct. When memory does not function well enough so that we know what we say is correct, then we are not in a position either to claim to know or to justify a claim to know. Thus, we wish to distinguish sharply between those cases in which memory serves us so well that we can both claim to know and are justified in that claim, from 24

Armstrong, op. cit.

74

BELIEF AND KNOWLEDGE

those cases in which memory succeeds only well enough so what we say, however hesitantly, is nevertheless quite correct. T h a t there is a distinction cannot be doubted, and, for purposes of constructing a theory to explain epistemic justification, we need only count as knowledge those cases in which a man is convinced that he knows and is ready to make a knowledge claim requiring justification. It is such cases that have top value in the epistemic marketplace of justificatory bartering, and all the rest may be discounted without incurring an explanatory deficit.

4

Justification and Knowledge: The Foundation Theory (I) I N the first chapter, we gave the following as the third condition of knowledge: (iii) If S knows that p, then S is completely justified in believing that p. This condition is the most important in the analysis of knowledge. Indeed, divergent epistemologies often diverge precisely on the question: what makes a belief completely justified ? As we noted earlier, certain alleged theories of truth are often simply theories of justification. One such theory mentioned earlier was the correspondence theory, namely, that a statement is true if and only if it corresponds to the facts. We argued that, as theory of truth, this reduced to the elimination theory. We also noted, however, that it might be reinterpreted as a theory of how we determine the truth of a statement, and, as so construed, it would be a theory of justification. It would then affirm that we determine whether or not a statement is true by determining whether or not it corresponds to the facts. The second theory of truth, which we also claimed reduced to the elimination theory, was the coherence theory. Again, we noted that this theory could be reinterpreted as a theory about how we determine the truth of a statement, and as so construed, it too would become a theory of justification. It would be one affirming that we determine whether or not a statement is true by determining whether it coheres with other statements belonging to some system.

76

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

Two Theories of Justification: Foundation and Coherence These formulations are imprecise and in need of clarification. They suggest the basic division of theories of justification into two camps. The first assumes, with the correspondence theory, that there are certain basic facts, and that all beliefs that are justified are so by their relation to those facts. Beliefs concerning basic facts are basic beliefs. All other beliefs are justified in terms of basic beliefs. Such theories of knowledge and justification have come to be known as foundation theories because they fit the metaphor of knowledge as an edifice supported by a foundation of basic beliefs. Hereafter we shall refer to such theories as foundation theories. The second kind of theory of knowledge eschews the idea that all justification depends on any set of basic beliefs and instead posits that the justification of beliefs depends only on relations between beliefs in some system of beliefs none of which is basic. The relation may be called a relation of coherence, but the mere introduction of that term is not intended to explicate the character of the justifying relation. We shall attempt to explicate the character of both foundation theories and coherence theories of knowledge and justification. Ultimately, we shall decide between them. In this chapter and the next, we shall be primarily concerned with the foundation theory of justification, and in subsequent chapters we shall turn to the coherence theory. The Foundation Theory It is possible to give a more precise characterization of foundation theories by specifying the conditions that must be met for a belief to be basic. The first is that a basic statement must be self-justified and must not be justified by any non-basic belief.. Second, a basic belief must either be irrefutable, or, if refutable at all, it must only be refutable by other basic beliefs. Third, beliefs must be such that all other beliefs that are justified or refuted are justified or refuted by basic beliefs. A theory of justification having these features is one in which there are basic beliefs which are self-justified and neither refutable nor justifiable by non-basic beliefs and which justify and refute

T H E F O U N D A T I O N THEORY

77

all non-basic beliefs that are justified or refuted. These basic beliefs constitute the foundation of all justification. Traditionally, the doctrine of empiricism has been associated with the foundation theory, for, according to empiricist theories of knowledge and justification, there are some empirical statements which constitute the coJitent ofJbasic belieik* The belief that such statements are true is a self-justified belief which x if it can be. re_fuled.-at._all, can only bejrefuted by some other empirical statements. All beliefs that are justified are so because of the justification provided by the empirical statements in question. Thus, the beliefs that such empirical statements are true are basic. Exactly how the empirical statements are construed depends on the empiricist in question. However, the empirical statements which constitute the content of basic beliefs have always been statements to the effect that some item in sense experience has or lacks some quality or relationship discernible by means of the senses. Thus, the empirical statements are statements of observation. Empiricists have disagreed about the object of sense experience. The item sensed may be conceived of as a physical thing, like a chair or a meter, or it may be construed as some more subjective entity, like an appearance or a sense datum. Moreover, they have disagreed about what makes such statements self-justified and about how basic beliefs Jus-Tfy oTher statements. They do agree that there are observation statements constituting the content of basic rieliels .7rrrcti justify -ail that is jti_tffied and refute ail that is refuted. Though empiricist epistemology is most commonly associated with a foundation theory, there is no logical restriction, or, for that matter, historical limitation, of foundation theories to empiricism. Rationalistic philosophies of knowledge, for example, that of Descartes, have been foundation theories. Such a rationalist maintains that a belief may be certified by reason as having characteristics that make it a basic belief. Reason is sufficient to determine that the belief is indubitable, or that it is a clear and distinct idea. A strict rationalism would hold that basic beliefs, and the justification they provide for other beliefs, are certified by reason alone. Again, Descartes is often claimed to be such a rationalist. Historically, this position is probably mistaken. I n a

78

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

late section of the Discourse on Method, Descartes mentions how he had recourse to experiment to decide between competing hypotheses. 1 Thus, it is doubtful that Descartes was a strict rationalist. He seems to have agreed that at least upon some occasions justification is derived from sense experience. Similarly, a strict empiricism would hold that basic beliefs and the justification they provide for other beliefs are certified by experience alone. None the less, whatever the correct historical interpretation of these philosophers may be, almost none would contend that all justification is derived solely from reason or solely from experience. T h a t a conclusion follows from premisses is ascertained by reason, and what the objects of sense experience are like is ascertained by experience./ Of course, reason may play a role in the latter, and experience in the former, but it would generally be conceded that if all men were deprived of reason, then no one would be justified in believing any conclusion to be a logical consequence of a premiss, and if we were all deprived of our senses, then no one would be justified in believing there to be any objects of sense experience. These are obvious truths, mentioned only to illustrate how misguided it is to conceive of epistemology as the battleground between rationalism and empiricism.

The Foundation as a Guarantee of Truth We are adopting an entirely different approach that cuts across traditional lines. Rationalists and empiricists often share a common conception which leads to a foundation theory and is perfectly easy to state. They conceive of justification as being a guarantee of truth. Empiricists think that experience can guarantee the truth of basic beliefs and rationalists think that reason is the guarantee of truth. Basic beliefs are basic because they cannot be false; their truth is guaranteed. With this initial guarantee of truth in basic beliefs, the next problem is how to extend this guarantee to other beliefs. The fundamental doctrine of foundation theories is that justification, whether it is the 1 Rene Descartes, Discourse on Method, ed. Laurence LaFleur (Liberal Arts Press, New York, 1956), part vi, 'Some Prerequisites for Further Advances in the Study of Nature', 41-2.

FOUNDATION AS GUARANTEE OF T R U T H

79

self-justification of basic beliefs, or the derivative justification of non-basic beliefs, guarantees truth. 2 O u r earlier analysis of knowledge does, of course, explain why this doctrine should be held. Since one condition of knowledge is truth, it follows that no belief constitutes knowledge unless it is true. Thus, if our justification fails to guarantee the truth of what we believe, then it may leave us with a false belief. In that case, we lack knowledge. So justification sufficient to ensure us knowledge must guarantee the truth of what we believe. There are many possible variations on the foundation theory. Some might formulate the doctrine in such a way that basic beliefs, though self-justified, might be refuted by non-basic beliefs. Or one might affirm that justification need not provide a guarantee of truth. If, however, either of these modifications are incorporated, we are forced to set aside a fundamental doctrine at the heart of the foundation theory. A central thesis of this theory is that beliefs which are justified by basic beliefs are safe from subsequent repudiation. If basic beliefs were refutable by non-basic ones, then all that was justified by basic beliefs might be undone if those basic beliefs themselves were refuted. In this case, we would be lacking a foundation for justification. Similarly, if the justification of basic beliefs did not guarantee their truth, then such beliefs would be open to refutation on the grounds that, though they are self-justified, they are in fact false. If there is nothing to ensure that such basic beliefs are true, then, ipso facto, there is nothing to ensure the truth of those beliefs they justify. Hence, they too are open to refutation. Philosophers have claimed beliefs to be reasonable or evident without justification from other beliefs.3 However, such views 2 Panayot Butchvarov in The Concert of Knowledge (Northwestern University Press, Evanston, 111., 1970), and Arthur C. Danto in An Analytical Theory of Knowledge (Cambridge University Press, London, 1968) have most recently expounded this view. See Butchvarov's discussion of the notion of sufficient evidence in his book, 49-50, and Danto's discussions of both direct knowledge, 26-49 and 147, and adequate evidence, 122, in his work. A. J . Ayer in Foundations of Empirical Knowledge, 78-84, proceeds from the same assumption and attempts to found justification on incorrigible statements. 3 For example, see R. M. Chisholm's Theory of Knowledge, particularly chapter 2, 'The Directly Evident', and Perceiving: A Philosophical Study, particularly chapter 5, 'Justification and Perception'.

>

80

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

either reduce to the foundation theory we have formulated or they fall short of providing a foundation for justification. If such reasonable and evident beliefs are without any guarantee of truth, if such reasonableness and evidence provides no such guarantee, then, once again, the beliefs are subject to the epistemic indignity of being accused of error. Being without a guarantee of truth, they provide no foundation. They may be repudiated, along with all they justify, on the grounds that they are false. On the other hand, if the reasonableness and evidence of such beliefs guarantees their truth, then the theory reduces to the foundation theory articulated above. Thus, by examining the foundation theory as expressed, without pretending to have considered all conceivable modifications, we shall obtain a fair evaluation of the merits of this epistemology. A foundation theory as so understood faces two problems. The first is to show that there are some basic beliefs which can guarantee their own truth. The second is to show how basic beliefs can guarantee the truth of other beliefs. The first of these problems will be the concern of the remainder of this chapter. Philosophers have maintained that some beliefs guarantee their own truth and are thus self-justified because they are incorrigible. We shall now examine the tenability of this thesis. Incorrigible Belief What is meant by saying that belief is incorrigible ? Let us begin with the intuitive notion that an incorribible belief is one such that the man who has the belief cannot be mistaken in believing what he does. We are immediately faced with the tricky little word 'can', a semantic chameleon. What are we to understand it to mean ? We may wisely begin with a technical notion which we can define with precision and then, should that prove insufficiently subtle, turn to some modification. We begin semantic operations with the notion of logical possibility. The notion of logical possibility which is a candidate for the 'can' of incorrigibility is one that is predicated of statements rather than of bits of language. We sometimes speak of thelogical impossibility of certain sentences, for example, we might say that the sentence 'John has a female brother' is logically impossible. However, when we say such things we are speaking

A D E F I N I T I O N OF I N C O R R I G I B I L I T Y

81

elliptically. What is stated by the sentence is logically impossible. W h a t the sentence 'John has a female brother' states is logically impossible. If one goes on to ask what the sentence states, we may say it states that J o h n has a female brother. I n a nutshell, it is logically impossible that something is the case. Logical impossibility may, of course, be defined in terms of other logical notions, and these notions apply to chunks of language. We may say, for example, that it is logically impossible that J o h n has a female brother if and only if the sentence 'John has a female brother' is a contradictory. We may then say that a sentence is contradictory if and only if it is analytically false. We thus come full tilt to the controversial notion of analyticity. It is notoriously difficult to provide any satisfactory definition or criterion of analyticity or related notions. Some philosophers thus disregard the notion of analyticity as a philosophical relic of semantic battles lost long ago. This conclusion is premature. Some logical notion, whether that of contradictoriness, possibility, or impossibility, may be taken as basic and undefined. Once we concede that logical impossibility or some other logical notion must be taken as basic and undefined, we must also admit there are going to be cases in which it is difficult to ascertain whether what a sentence states is logically impossible. This is not because we are inept at logic or fail to understand the meaning of words, but rather, because the concept of logical impossibility is inexact and the distinction between logic and other areas of inquiry not clearly drawn. Nevertheless, there are many cases in which the application of the concept will be sufficiently precise for useful employment. The current case is one of these. A Definition of Incorrigibility Let us now define incorrigibility in terms of the concept of logical impossibility. We can say, roughly, that a belief is incorrigible if and only if it is logically impossible for the belief to be mistaken. More formally, the definition is as follows: S has an incorrigible belief that/> if and only if it is logically impossible that S believes that p and p is false.

82

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

Given this definition of incorrigibility, it follows immediately that if a person believes something and his belief is incorrigible, then what he believes is true. If it is impossible that he should believe that p and p should be false, then, given that he does believe that/;, it follows that/) is true. Hence, in one sense such beliefs guarantee their own truth. Nevertheless, a problem arises when we consider whether incorrigible beliefs as so defined are self-justified or, indeed, justified at all, for it is logically impossible that any person should be mistaken in believing anything which is logically necessary. By saying that something is logically necessary I mean no more or less than that it is the denial of something logically impossible. Thus, it is logically impossible that 2 plus 7 does not equal 9, and hence logically necessary that 2 plus 7 equals 9. This means, however, that it is logically impossible that a man should believe that 2 plus 7 equals 9 and be mistaken in his belief. The reason is that it is logically impossible that 2 plus 7 should not equal 9. A Counterexample No matter how complicated or esoteric the arithmetical belief might be, it remains the case that if what is believed is logically necessary, then it is logically impossible that the belief should be false. Hence, the belief is incorrigible. For example, if a man believes that there is a one-to-one correspondence between the set of natural numbers and the set of even natural numbers, then he believes something that is logically necessary, and his belief is incorrigible. If, however, he believes this for some foolish reason, for example, he believes that after a certain point in the series of natural numbers there are no more odd ones, then we would conclude that, on the basis of his reasoning, he surely could have been mistaken and was quite unjustified in his belief. It was pretty much a matter of luck that what he believes was true, for he had no cogent reason for believing what he did. It is, of course, obvious that he did not know that what he believed was true because his belief was not at all justified. In this example the man could have been mistaken, even though it was logically impossible that he should have been. Thus, there appears to be some important sense of the express-

AN AMENDED D E F I N I T I O N OF I N C O R R I G I B I L I T Y

83

ion 'could not have been mistaken' which our current specification of incorrigibility fails to capture. Moreover, this demonstrates that the justification we have for believing certain necessary truths in arithmetic, mathematics and logic is not a simple consequence of the necessity of what is believed. A man may believe something that is a necessary truth without in any way knowing that his belief is true or even being justified in his belief. This argument proves that the logical impossibility of being mistaken does not suffice for justification when what is believed in an arithmetical, mathematical, or logical truth. It is important to understand exactly why the logical impossibility of being mistaken does not produce justification in such cases. The difficulty is that the logical impossibility of being mistaken, and hence the incorrigibility of the belief, is a logical consequence of what is believed, and has nothing to do with the existence of the belief. If what is believed is logically necessary, then it is logically impossible that it should be false. When it is logically impossible that it is false that p, for any condition C whatever, it is logically impossible that C should hold and that p should be false. Thus, when it is logically necessary that p, the logical impossibility of the conjunctive statement that S believes that p and it is false that p is a direct consequence of the logical impossibility of the falsity of p. That S believes that p has nothing whatever to do with the incorrigibility of his belief in these cases. 4 An Amended Definition of Incorrigibility This does not show that the notion of incorrigibility introduced above must be completely abandoned. We may instead modify the definition of incorrigibility by restricting it to statements that are contingent. Contingent statements are ones that are neither logically impossible nor logically necessary. We would then obtain the following definition of incorrigibility: S has an incorrigible belief that p if and only if (i) it is contingent that p and (ii) it is logically impossible that S believes that p and it is false that p. 4 Another method for dealing with these problems is presented by George Nakhnikian in 'Incorrigibility', Philosophical Quarterly, xviii (1968), 207-15, but Nakhnikian defines incorrigibility in terms of knowledge and this would be unacceptable in the present context.

84

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

O n this definition of incorrigibility, no belief is incorrigible when what is believed is logically necessary. Thus, if a person's belief is incorrigible in this sense, the incorrigibility of his belief will not be a simple consequence of the logical necessity of what he believes. O n the contrary, what he believes must be contingent for his belief to be incorrigible, and hence, the incorrigibility of the belief will result from some logical connection between his having the belief and the truth of what is believed. It will not result simply from the logical necessity of what is believed. Given that a belief is incorrigible in this sense, it is plausible to claim that the belief is self-justified because of the way in which it guarantees the truth of itself. The logical impossibility of the belief being false arises because the truth of what is believed is a logical consequence of the existence of the belief. More precisely, the statement that S believes that p has the truth of p as a deductive consequence, and the statement that S believes that p is essential to the deduction. Hence, the existence of the belief guarantees the truth of what is believed and the truth of the belief is not guaranteed by logic alone. Even this definition of incorrigibility leaves us with a problem noted (in discussion) by Kenneth Konyndyk. Suppose that p is a deductive consequence of the statement that S believes p. Now, it is a general principle of deduction that ifp is a deductive consequence of q, and t is a logical truth, then the conjunction of/) and t is also a deductive consequence of q. This principle is but a corollary of the principle that a logical truth is a deductive consequence of every statement. Moreover, Up is a contingent statement, then so is the conjunction of p and t, where t is any logical truth whatever. Thus, if we suppose that there is some contingent statement which a man incorrigibly believes to be true, and if we suppose that every incorrigible belief is selfjustified, then we arrive at the conclusion that if that man believes the conjunction of the contingent statement in question and any logical truth, no matter how foolish his reasons for believing the logical truth, then his belief in that conjunction is also incorrigible and self-justified. Consequently, we should have to say that he knew the conjunction to be true even though his reasons for believing one conjunct, the logical truth, failed to justify his believing it. A man does not, however, know a logical

ALLEGED EXAMPLES OF THE INCORRIGIBLE

85

truth to be true simply because he happens to believe it in conjunction with some contingent statement that is incorrigible. These reflections show that incorrigibility as defined is not sufficient justification of conjunctions or other logically complex statements. One way to avoid this problem is to restrict the definition of incorrigibility to statements that they are both contingent and non-complex, that is, atomic. However, the notion of atomicity, though it has a clear application within formal systems, lacks a comparably precise application within natural languages. Like the notion of an undefined or a logically primitive term, it has clear application in an artificial language where one may arbitrarily take any terms as primitive and any sentences as atomic. What is primitive and atomic in one system may be defined and complex in another. Such logical conceptions are thus always relative to a choice that we make in the construction of an artificial system. The contention of philosophers that some term is primitive, or that some sentence is atomic in a natural language remains obscure. Moreover, the problem we have just uncovered shows rather clearly that incorrigibility is not a sufficient condition for selfjustification, and, we shall accept that conclusion. 'It remains for us to consider whether incorrigibility is a necessary condition for self-justification. In short, even though not all incorrigible beliefs are self-justified, it remains possible that all self-justified beliefs are incorrigible, and moreover, are selfjustified precisely because they are incorrigible. Thus, the notion of incorrigibility defined above will suffice for our purposes. The question that remains is whether there are incorrigible beliefs as so defined adequate to provide a foundation for the justification of all justified beliefs. Alleged Examples of the Incorrigible M a n y beliefs that a man has about himself are alleged to be incorrigible in this sense. The favourites are beliefs about subjective mental states of the moment, the idea being that a man cannot be mistaken about what is going on in his mind at the moment it is going on. Rather than beginning with a discussion of a belief about some mental or psychological state, though, let us go back to Descartes and consider the bare

86

JUSTIFICATION

AND

KNOWLEDGE

belief of man that he exists, whatever else might be true about him. Consider, for example, my belief that I exist. My belief that I exist cannot, it is averred, conceivably be false. Yet when I say that I exist, my statement is perfectly contingent: it is not logically impossible that I should not exist. O n the other hand, it does seem logically impossible that I should believe that I exist and yet not exist. If I do not exist, then how could I possibly believe that I do ? The answer is that I could not. Thus, the notion of incorrigibility that we have defined is not empty. Let us now consider a second example of incorrigible belief. If a man believes that he believes something, this logically implies that he believes something. The statement that I do not believe anything is logically contingent and non-contradictory, but it is logically impossible that I believe that I believe something and do not believe anything. Thus, the belief that one believes something is incorrigible. The foregoing example must be distinguished from a closely related one. Once it is conceded that the belief that one believes something is incorrigible, it might be inferred that if a man believed that he believes that so and so, then his belief that he believes that so and so is incorrigible. I wish to deny this. A man might believe that he believes that so and so, in which case his belief that he believes something is incorrigible, but his belief that he believes that so and so is not. To be more precise, there is at least one sense of the term 'believe' in which a man may be mistaken about what he believes, namely, that sense in which belief involves conscious conviction. This fact is familiar from ordinary discourse, for a man is sometimes told that he does not believe what he honestly says he believes. He may be convinced that he is convinced of what he says, but subsequently realize he was not convinced of what he originally said. To see that this is so, consider again the example that Lemmon used for other purposes. 5 We ask a man to tell us what he believes pi to be when rounded off to four decimal places and he, relying on memory, replies that pi is 3-1417. H e immediately recalls that pi equals 3-14159, and corrects himself. Such a man might be said to have believed that he believed that 5 E. J . Lemmon, 'If I Know, Do I Know that I Know?' in Epistemology: New Essays in the Theory of Knowledge, ed. A. Stroll, 54-82.

THE C O R R I G I B I L I T Y OF T H O U G H T

87

pi is 3-1417 when first he answered, but then realized that he in fact did not believe that pi is 3-1417, but rather believed pi to be 3-1416. This example is but one of many in which a man can come to recognize that he does not believe what he says, and believes that he believes. Someone may reply that the man who said what he believed and immediately changed his mind really did believe what he said he believed at the time he said so, but immediately afterwards did not believe what he said he believed. The man has made some mistake, however, and it is reasonable to conclude he was mistaken when he said that he believed that pi is 3-1417. He is mistaken in his saying that he had such a belief. The objection would have us accept the idea that when the man later says he does not believe/)? is 3-1417, but rather 3-1416, this statement is incorrect because he did believe pi to be 3-1417 when he said so, even if he has now changed his mind. If, on the other hand, the man insists that he never believed pi to be 3-1417, though he admits unreflectively saying he believed pi to be 3-1417, the objection becomes untenable. There is a final objection. It might be admitted that the man never did believe pi to be 3-1417, but also be contended that he did not believe that he believed pi to be 3-1417. If his saying that/)? is 3-1417 does not show that he believed pi to be 3-1417, then why should his saying that he believes pi to be 3-1417 show that he believes that he believes pi to be 3-1417? This objection is crucial. The answer depends on what the man himself says. If he later admits to not having believed what he said when he said that he believed pi to be 3-1417, then it is most reasonable to accept the conclusion he did not believe that he believed it. None the less, it may also be that the man originally said 'I believe pi is 3-1417', and later said that, though he believed what he first said, he did not believe pi to be 3-1417. We may then conclude that the man believed that he believed pi to be 3-1417 but in fact did not believe^' to be 3-1417. The Corrigibility of Thought The preceding example opens the door to a demonstration that there are very few incorrigible beliefs about mental processes. One could offer similar arguments to show that it is

88

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

logically possible for a person to be mistaken about what he hopes, fears, and wishes. Hopes, fears, and wishes are like convictions in that we sometimes realize that we did not hope, fear, or wish for what we believed we did. Such states are not, however, the best candidates for mental states about which we cannot be mistaken. Thinking is a better one. We sometimes say of a person that he thinks that so and so when we are using the term 'think' to mean something very much like belief. That is not the sense of the term we shall consider now. Instead, consider that use of the term 'think' which is participial, for example, when we say 'John is thinking that Mary is a colonel.' Here we use the term to refer to some ongoing mental process. We shall now seek to determine whether a person can be mistaken in his beliefs about such occurrences. Suppose I am thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet. Suppose secondly that I believe that Bacon is identical with Shakespeare, that is, that the man known to us as the author Shakespeare is none other than Bacon. However, though I believe this identity to hold, let us also imagine that this belief is not before my mind, I am not thinking of this identity at the time at which I am thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet. Now, suppose I am asked what I was thinking. I might conclude I was thinking that Shakespeare was the author of Hamlet because, believing that Bacon is Shakespeare, I also believe that thinking that Bacon is such and such is the same thing as thinking that Shakespeare is such and such. In short, I believe that thinking something of a subject is the same thing as thinking the same thing of anything identical to the subject. Am I correct? The answer is no. The way to clarify this is to notice that sometimes when a man is thinking, he is talking to himself. Suppose my thinking, in this instance, consists of my talking to myself, of mulling things over in silent soliloquy. Let us be clear, however; there is no excuse for supposing that all thinking consists of such silent soliloquy. Sometimes it does not—for example, when a man goes to bed with an unsolved problem on his mind and suddenly awakens to discover that he has found the solution. This suggests the man is thinking while asleep, but there is no reason to suppose his thinking consisted of his making speeches to himself while asleep. Nevertheless, there are some

THE C O R R I G I B I L I T Y OF T H O U G H T

89

cases in which thinking consists of talking to oneself, and by focusing on such cases we shall be able to reveal the way in which a man can be mistaken about what he is thinking. Suppose that when I was thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet, my thinking consisted of saying to myself: 'Bacon is the author of Hamlet.' Now, it is perfectly clear that to say 'Bacon is the author of Hamlet'' is one thing, and to say 'Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet' is another. Thus, thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet is not necessarily the same thing as thinking that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet, and we may, therefore, imagine I was not thinking the latter when I was thinking the former. Thus, when I reported that I was thinking that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet, and believed what I said, I was quite mistaken. Hence, believing that one is thinking such and such does not logically imply that one is thinking that. 6 There are several objections to this line of thought which must be met. The first is that even though my thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet might, in some way, consist of my saying 'Bacon is the author of Hamlet' to myself, it still does not follow that I was not thinking that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet when saying to myself'Bacon is the author of Hamlet'. Maybe I was thinking that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet, but my so thinking did not consist of my saying 'Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet' to myself. ^ The reply to this objection is that there is no reason to say I was thinking Shakespeare was the author of Hamlet when I was saying something quite different to myself. My reason for saying I was thinking Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet is a faulty inference. From my belief that Bacon is Shakespeare I inferred that thinking Bacon is such and such is the same thing as thinking Shakespeare is such and such. The inference is as faulty as the inference from that belief to the conclusion that saying Bacon is such and such is the same thing as saying Shakespeare is such and such. This inference is incorrect, even if the two men are identical, because I did not say that they were identical. Hence, when I said Bacon was such and such I did not say that Shakespeare was such and such. 6 Katherine Pyne Parsons in 'Mistaking Sensations', Philosophical Review, Ixxix (1970), 201-13, raises some similar objections to the doctrine that statements about mental statements are incorrigible.

go

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

The argument just enunciated may be obscured by the consideration that if Bacon and Shakespeare are the same, then what I said of the one man is true if and only if what I said of the other is true. However, we can avoid this issue by assuming my belief that Bacon is Shakespeare to be false. Indeed, most scholars of Elizabethan literature would assume this. In that case, when I am saying that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet, what I am saying is true, while, when I am saying that Bacon is the author oi Hamlet, what I am saying is false. Hence saying the one thing cannot be identical with saying the other. The same is true of thinking. If, when I am thinking that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet, what I am thinking is true, while, when I am thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet, what I am thinking is false—then my thinking the first cannot be identical with my thinking the second. Hence, if I believe that I am thinking Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet because I believe I am thinking Bacon is the author oi Hamlet, as was the case in the example cited, the former belief may be mistaken, even though the latter is correct. There is one hurdle left to leap. It could still be objected that I did not believe that I was thinking Shakespeare is the author oi Hamlet at the same time I was thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet—I only believed the former subsequently when I responded to the query. Thus, when I am asked what I am thinking, I reply that I am thinking that Shakespeare is the author of Hamlet and at that time I do believe this. But this reply, according to the objection, refers to a time when the query was made, and there is no reason for concluding I believed I was thinking Shakespeare to be the author oi Hamlet at any earlier time. I only held an erroneous belief about what I was thinking subsequent to the time I was doing the thinking, and this leaves unrefuted the claim that when I or anyone else has a belief about what is presently going on in his mind, his belief cannot possibly be false. Later through faulty memory or mistaken inference, the belief about what happened earlier may, of course, be in error. This reply is met most directly by simply affirming that I may believe that I am thinking one thing while thinking another. The reason is that belief is not an action or even an occurrence. I can believe that I am thinking that Bacon is the author

ARMSTRONG'S ARGUMENT

91

of Hamlet at the very time at which I am thinking that. My believing this is not some additional occurrence. It is something that can coexist with such a thought and yet be quite distinct from the thinking. I might have been thinking what I was without believing that what I was thinking was true. When a man talks to himself he need not believe what he says. If my belief that I am thinking that Bacon is the author of Hamlet can exist at the same time as my thinking that, then obviously my belief that I am thinking Shakespeare is the author oi Hamlet can exist at the same time as my thinking Bacon is the author of Hamlet. Hence, the objection fails. From the preceding argument we may conclude that a man can make all sorts of mistakes about what is presently going on in his mind. The preceding argument may be adopted to show that when a man believes that he is surmising that p, doubting that p, or pondering that p, he may be mistaken in his belief. It would be the most unforgivable pendantry to rerun the preceding argument for each of these states. 'Moreover, any state that involves conscious consideration of a statement is a state about which one can be mistaken. This should be clear from the preceding argument. Thus we have robbed consciousness of claims to incorrigible belief concerning even the present existence of states which have some statement as an object. The Corrigibility of Beliefs about Sensations The next issue to face is whether beliefs not having statements as objects are ever incorrigible. For example, let us consider beliefs about the sensations of sense experience. Following a philosophical tradition, we may refer to the objects of such experiences as sensations whether the experience is tactile, visual, auditory, and so forth. This use of the term 'sensation' has been thought to be pernicious, but the reasons for such misgivings are not germane to our discussion. Armstrong's Argument Armstrong has argued that reports about the sensations one is having are reports that can be mistaken jpven though no verbal slip or other verbal confusion is involved. It will be useful

92

JUSTIFICATION

AND

KNOWLEDGE

for our purposes to reformulate his thesis and arguments in terms of belief. The change is not fundamental. Armstrong argues that we might at some time have exceedingly good evidence both that a man was not lying or making a verbal error, and that he did not have the sensation he said he had. To this end, imagine that we have reached a level of neurological understanding beyond the present and have established that a man experiences a certain sensation when and only when in a certain brain state, call it state 143. Let us imagine that the sensation is a visual one, for example, that sort of visual experience that a normal man has when confronted with red objects in daylight. We may call this a sensation of red. Moreover, suppose we can give a man a drug which will make him truthful in a laboratory experiment. Now imagine we give a man such a drug, he reports a sensation of red, and we are able to observe that he is not in brain state 143. On the basis of the evidence that he is drugged, we conclude that he believes what he says. O n the basis of the neurological evidence that he is not in brain state 143, we conclude that he is not having a sensation of red. This story, Armstrong would have us concede, is at least logically possible. If it is logically possible and involves no contradiction in conception, then it is logically possible that the man in question believes that he has a sensation of red when he does not have it. 7 A Reply to Armstrong The basic assumption of the example is that we could have evidence which shows a man believing he is having a sensation he is not having. If it is conceded that such evidence would render it highly probable that the man is not having the sensation without thereby rendering it at least as probable that he does not believe he is having the sensation, then the argument succeeds. We know it is a theorem of probability that if evidence renders a hypothesis highly probable then it renders any logical consequence of that hypothesis at least as probable. Let us abbreviate the hypothesis that the man is not having the sensation by 'NS', and the hypothesis that he does not believe he has 7 David Armstrong, 'Is Introspective Knowledge Incorrigible?', Philosophical Review, lxxii (1963), 424.

i

A REPLY TO ARMSTRONG

93

the sensation by the letter 'NB', and the evidence Armstrong mentions by 'E'. Now suppose the evidence E renders NS highly probable, but does not render NB probable. This would show that believing one has a sensation does not logically imply having the sensation, because NS does not logically imply NB. Nevertheless, the argument is defective. We all agree that an experimenter might have evidence which might convince him that it is highly probable that the man in the example believes he has a sensation but does not. It would seem to him that evidence E renders NS highly probable but fails to render NB equally probable. There are, however, two divergent explanations of our experimenter's attitude. One is that the evidence genuinely does render one hypothesis highly probable while failing to render the other as probable. The other explanation is that the evidence only seems not to render NB highly probable because the experimenter fails to realize that NS logically implies NB. Once the logical implication is recognized it becomes obvious that evidence does render NB highly probable. If a man does not recognize that one hypothesis logically implies a second, then evidence that favours the first hypothesis might not seem to favour the second, even though in fact it does. Let us consider an example in which evidence renders one hypothesis highly probable, but does not seem to render highly probable a logical consequence of it. Imagine that I see a red die on my desk, and let us suppose my sensory evidence renders it highly probable that there is a red die there. This evidence then also renders it highly probable that there is a cube on my desk, since a die is by definition a cube. Now, suppose I do not know that it logically follows from the fact that something is a cube that it has twelve edges. In that case, though I maintain that my evidence renders it highly probable that there is a cube on my desk, I might deny that the evidence renders it highly probable that there is a twelve-edged solid object on my desk. Even so, the latter would be an error. The evidence that renders it highly probable that there is a cube on my desk must render it at least as probable that there is a solid object having twelve edges on my desk, for the former logically implies the latter.

94

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

Let us consider one further example. Suppose I am seated at my desk and witness the following scene. A man arrives and walks over to my car, takes out some tools with which he opens the door, then quickly enters it and runs off with the flashlight from my glove compartment. I conclude that a man has entered my car and taken my flashlight because I believe that I have seen this happen before my very eyes. Now imagine someone asserts that I am quite in error, that I did not see what I believed I saw, but rather that I was undergoing a hallucination. He grants that the flashlight is gone, but says I removed it earlier, being careful to conceal it where it would not be found, and, because of my demented state, completely forgot that this was so. Now, he might claim that the evidence I have could not refute his sceptical contentions, since I would believe and say just what I do if his account is correct. Thus, he might affirm that my thoughts and experiences do not render his hypothesis improbable and conclude that they do not render my hypothesis highly probable. Such sceptical doubts have often "worried philosophers more than they should. The correct reply is that evidence of my thoughts and experiences does render highly probable the hypothesis that I saw a man take my flashlight; and since this logically implies that I was not hallucinating, the evidence also renders highly probable the hypothesis that I was not hallucinating. Initially, my experiences and thoughts might seem to be irrelevant to the question of whether I was hallucinating, but this semblance vanishes when one discerns that the falsity of the hallucinatory hypothesis is logically implied by the hypothesis that I saw the man take the flashlight. Once this logical implication is noticed, one may conclude that the evidence renders the hallucinatory hypothesis highly improbable. The application of these considerations to the issue at hand is to illustrate two different ways of explaining the reaction of our fictitious experimenter. One is to assume what the experimenter does. The other is to assume that the experimenter simply failed to notice that believing one has a sensation logically implies that one has it. O n this assumption he has failed to notice that his evidence renders it highly improbable that the subject believes he has a sensation. This second explanation is consistent with the incorrigibility of beliefs about sensations.

A COUNTEREXAMPLE

95

These two ways, of explaining why the experimenter thinks what he does, are on exactly equal footing. We need some other argument to shake the dialectical ground beneath them. Sensations and Incorrigibility: A Counterexample Another argument is readily available. The argument is very similar to that by which we demonstrated the corrigibility of other beliefs. A man might believe that one sensation is the same as another when this belief is erroneous, and, consequently believe that he is having one sensation when he is having quite a different one. Let us consider an example of confusing two sensations, those of pain and itching. Imagine that a not very enlightened lady goes to her doctor to complain of a disagreeable sensation. Imagine that the sensation is sometimes distinctly one of pain and at other times distinctly one of itching. Moreover, suppose this person greatly admires her doctor and is inclined to believe what the doctor says even when his medical deliverances are somewhat preposterous. The lady is told by her doctor that it is not surprising that her sensation is sometimes one of pain and sometimes one of itching because itches really are pains. All itches, he says, are pains, though some are very mild. Such is the authority of the man, and such is the credibility of the lady, that his word is taken as a creed. From that moment on she never doubts that itches are pains, and, though they feel different, she firmly believes that she is in pain whenever she has the slightest itch. When she itches, therefore, she erroneously believes that she is in pain. Thus, believing that she is in pain does not logically imply that she is in pain. It should be apparent that the lady in question might have been misled by her esteemed medical sage into believing that any sensation was another when in fact it was not. She might, without understanding how such things could possibly be true, believe that they are. It follows that it is logically possible that the lady may confuse almost any sensation with some other because she mistakenly believes that the one is the other and thus believes she is having the sensation when she is not. Hence, beliefs about sensations, like beliefs about thoughts, are corrigible. In general, very little that one believes about mental and psychological states of oneself is incorrigible. Error can, as

96

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

a matter of logic, insert itself stealthily between belief and what is believed in this matter as in others. We might note in passing that many beliefs about sensations are not simply beliefs about mental or psychological states. For example, if I believe that I have the pain from a wound in my leg, this is a belief, not only about pain, but about the etiology of the pain and about my leg. As such it is subject to all the epistemic hazards of beliefs about the etiology of sensations and the conditions of legs. Beliefs about the location of pain is a more difficult matter. It is clear that a man may feel a pain in one part of his body because another part of his body is undergoing some trauma, or even because he is undergoing some nonphysical trauma. Here it seems reasonable to say the pain a man suffers must be where he feels it to be; but feeling is one thing and belief another. A man may, because of some peculiar beliefs, believe that he feels a pain in one part of his body when in fact he feels it elsewhere. In other words, a man may be mistaken about where the pain is.^ Other Alleged Counterexamples Other counterexamples to the thesis that beliefs about sensations are incorrigible concern people who are in a more or less aberrant state. Consider a man who believes he is about to undergo some painful experience, for example, that he is about to be touched by some very hot object, though in fact the object is cold to the touch. Because he expects to feel a burning sensation, he could believe that he was feeling such a sensation during the first moment or two when the cold object touched his flesh. This belief would then be false. The difficulty with such a counterexample is that it is problematic whether expecting to feel a burning sensation produces false beliefs or a burning sensation. The counterexample may be well taken, but it is hardly decisive. Another kind of counterexample concerns those who are mentally aberrant and undergoing hallucination. For example, suppose that a very paranoid man complains that he is suffering excruciating pain because little green martians are cutting into his flesh. If he then goes on to tell us that the reason he shows no sign of being in pain (he does not grimace, wince, and so

SOME OBJECTIONS

97

forth) is that he does not want to let the martians know they are succeeding in making him suffer, we might begin to think he believes he is in pain when he is not. The man might in fact not be undergoing any pain whatsoever even though he does genuinely believe that he is suffering. He might later, when the aberrance has vanished, report that this is what had happened. Some philosophers might doubt that the usual concepts of belief and sensation apply in such peculiar cases as this and others would have other doubts. Again, such examples, though not decisive from the standpoint of persuasion, may be genuine counterexamples. These two cases, like the one I set forth, stem from the same consideration, to wit, that a man may believe that he is having a sensation because of some erroneous conviction leading him to believe he is undergoing a sensation of a definite variety when this is not so. Some Objections It is essential that we consider counterarguments to the foregoing. Let us return to our gullible medical patient and her fanciful doctor. She believes that all itches are pains and hence when she itches she believes that she is in pain though she feels no pain. One objection is that the lady in question does not mean what the rest of us mean by the word 'pain'. Indeed, what she means by 'pain' is what the rest of us mean by 'pain or itch'. So when she says that she is in pain what she means is that either she is in pain or is itching. Consequently, her belief, which we have supposed to be false, would in fact be quite correct; but the words she uses to express those beliefs are not ones that would be customary. This argument has an initial plausibility and a hard core of philosophical doctrine to support it. There is a philosophical tradition of treating systematic differences in what is said as differences in the meaning of words rather than as factual disagreements. Let us consider the matter of meaning. First, it is important to distinguish between what a person means and the meaning of the words a person utters. A person is asserting what he means when he utters words intending to say something true. The assertion and the meaning are the same in this case. When I say, 'The war is too long', I both assert and mean that

98

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

the war is too long. What I mean by the words I utter may change, though the words are the same, without there being any change in the meaning of the words uttered. For example, as Cartwright has shown, indexical words used to refer to times and places do not change meaning on the different occasions of utterance, but what is asserted or meant does change. 8 When I say 'Now is the time for protest', on i October 1967, I assert something different from what I assert when I speak those words on 1 October 1969. O n both occasions I am asserting that a certain time is the time for protest, the time then referred to by the word 'now'. But the time referred to by the use of that word differs. I am asserting that a different time is the time for protest on each occasion. Now let us consider whether the woman who says that she is in pain means that she is either in pain or itches. Does her use of the word 'pain' differ in meaning from its normal use ? Unless it does, we should not conclude that she must mean something different when she says 'I am in pain' than would be customary. She may mean or assert exactly what the rest of us would ordinarily mean or assert by uttering those words. There is, we shall show, no justification for supposing the word 'pain' to have special meaning as she uses it. To appreciate that the word 'pain' does not undergo a semantic transformation when it falls from her lips, let us consider her speech behaviour without supposing that we know why, when she itches, she says she is in pain. How should we explain it ? We might initially imagine that she really does experience pain much more frequently than the rest of us, but once we notice that she does not exhibit the usual symptoms, we conclude that she is not subject to pain with any exceptional frequency. We conclude that either her use of the word 'pain' means something different from what it means to the rest of us, or else she very frequently believes that she is in pain when she is actually experiencing none. What is the correct explanation? Consider the hypothesis that the meaning of the word is special. T o check on it, we should investigate to determine whether there is anything special in the way that she learned 8 Richard Cartwright, 'Propositions', cited in chapter 2, particularly section 10, pp. 93-5.

SOME OBJECTIONS

99

the word. We would then discover that her linguistic training is altogether jejune. Moreover, when we ask her to describe what pain is like, she describes it as throbbing, stabbing, and so forth, which seems appropriate. We then ask why she describes as pain certain states which lack these characteristics. We then are told that special intense cases of itching are painful, and agree. But why, we ask, does she call less intense and even very mild itches pains? We then learn that it is because of what the doctor has told her and her faith in his pronouncements. At this point, it is most reasonable to conclude that she has a very peculiar belief about pains, a belief she acquired in the way she affirms, and, consequently, there is neither need nor justification for assuming that as she uses the word 'pain' it means something special. We explain her speech behaviour in a completely satisfactory manner without postulating such a change. We may imagine she is quite as puzzled as we as to why anyone should regard a mild itch as a pain, but she believes it is pain none the less. If we suppose that the word 'pain' has undergone a transformation of meaning in her vocabulary, then we mischievously deprive her of the linguistic means to describe her quite unusual belief. When she says that all itches are pains, she is making quite an extraordinary assertion, and this assertion is by no means reducible to the trivial claim that all itches are either pains or itches. The latter is all her assertion would come to if by 'pain' she meant 'either pain or itch'. Since her belief is preposterously false rather than trivially true, it must be that the word 'pain' has not been so transformed in meaning. When she says 'I am in pain', she means it. To sum up the preceding discussion, a systematic difference in linguistic usage can result either from a change of meaning or from a change of belief. In some instances the simpler explanation is that there is a change of meaning, in others, a change of belief. In the example we have contrived, the more adequate explanation of the speech phenomenon is that there has been a change of belief: the woman has learned how to use the word 'pain' in the usual way to mean what is usually meant. When she begins to report pains that do not exist, this is due to the alteration of her beliefs by the doctor. \ We may now conclude our remarks on the incorrigible. We

ioo

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND KNOWLEDGE

have found very few beliefs that are incorrigible in the relevant sense. The belief that I exist is incorrigible as is the belief that I believe, but any belief about what I think or believe about any sensation or feeling is corrigible and subject to correction. I t is evident that from such a slim base as this we cannot justify all those beliefs, or even any large part of those beliefs, which we consider so well justified as to constitute knowledge. ^

5

Corrigible Justification: The Foundation Theory (II) T H E preceding chapter has shown why a foundation theory of justification must subscribe to the doctrine that at least some basic beliefs are corrigible. There is reason to doubt the tenability of such a doctrine. A basic belief is one which guarantees its own truth, and it is problematic to suppose that a corrigible belief which can be false might nevertheless guarantee its own truth. Indeed, there is a traditional philosophical argument which, without formal representation, has led philosophers to conclude only incorrigible beliefs may guarantee their own truth. The argument premisses that if a belief is corrigible, then it can be false, and proceeds to assume that if a belief can be false, then any justification of the belief guaranteeing its truth must be supplied by independent information. It is then concluded that if a belief is corrigible it must be justified by such information and, therefore, cannot be basic. If this argument is decisive, then either we must abandon the foundation theory or conclude we are ignorant of almost all we suppose we know. Fortunately for the foundation theory, the foregoing argument is far from invulnerable. Thomas Reid long ago noted a primary perforation. The argument proceeds with the assumption that the justification of a belief which can be false must be obtained from an external source.'1 Reid averred that some beliefs, for example perceptual beliefs concerning what we see immediately before us, are in no need of justification. Though they can be erroneous, Reid conceded, they nevertheless stand justified in themselves without need of independent corroboration, at least until some argument is brought forth to sustain the

ioa

CORRIGIBLE J U S T I F I C A T I O N

claim that such a belief is false. In short, such beliefs are selfjustified because their justification is inherent. As Reid put it, they have a right of ancient possession, and, until this inherent right is successfully challenged, they remain justified without support from any other information at all. 1 This line of thought may be recast in terms of the guarantee of truth that belongs to such beliefs. This guarantee is not anything derived from any independent source but is indigenous to the belief itself. We might, as Reid did, say that such beliefs are those of common sense. Whatever criterion one might employ to select corrigible beliefs which are nevertheless self-justified and basic, Reid has hit upon a critically important line of defence for the foundation theory. A simple analogy may illuminate the insight. If a company guarantees a product against defects in manufacture, this guarantee of soundness is not proof that the product is sound. Similarly, the guarantee of truth intrinsic to some beliefs is not proof that the belief is true. The manufactured items may be defective and the beliefs may be erroneous, but a reasonable man attaches some value to such guarantees none the less and relies upon them in forming his plans and shaping his convictions. Thus, according to Reid, we may trust guarantees which are not infallible guides to success whether we seek a sound product of manufacture or a true belief of natural origin. Though we remain vigilant to detect errors, we may, in The customary affairs of life, rely upon the intrinsic guarantee of truth and the attendant justification that attaches as a birthright to various of our beliefs. VThey are completely justified in themselves without "need of any independent information or justification. If this doctrine proves tenable, it could provide us with a set of basic but corrigible beliefs. The rights of birth and ancient possession have, however, been challenged in the political sphere, and we must bring them under close scrutiny here as well. Complete Justification and Independent Information Candidates for the status of self-justified beliefs whose justification does not depend on independent information are fre1 Thomas Reid, Essays on the Active Powers of the Mind, from The Philosophical Works of Thomas Reid, ed. Sir William Hamilton (James Thin, London, 1895), 617.

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND I N F O R M A T I O N

103

quently perceptual. Let us consider some promising candidates and see if we can discover any worthy of the office. Suppose I believe I see a typewriter beneath my fingers. Now it might be supposed that, for my belief to be justified, I must have some independent information about what I see, namely, that a thing that looks like the thing beneath my fingers is a typewriter. If I did not have that information, then I would not be justified in believing I see a typewriter. In short, whenever I see a thing of a certain kind, my being justified in the belief that I am seeing a thing of that kind depends on independent information I have about how things of that kind look. This information justifies me in concluding that the thing I see is such an object. 2 . It is clear that a similar argument will confront us when we consider a simpler belief, for example, the belief that I see something red. It will be argued that, for me to determine that what I see is a red thing, I must have independent information about how red things look and, indeed, about how they look under various conditions. One might object to the argument that for a thing to be red is just for it to look red under standard conditions to normal observers, and thus it is not necessary to have independent information to determine that what one sees is red. It is only necessary to understand the meaning of the word 'red'. The reply to this objection is that a man needs to know more than that red things look red under standard conditions to normal observers to determine that what he sees is red: he must also know how to tell when conditions are standard and when an observer is normal. Thus, if something looks red to a person, he cannot justifiably conclude that it is red from the formula that red things look red in standard conditions to normal observers, he would also need to know that the conditions are standard and that he is normal. Independent information is, therefore, required for the justification of this perceptual belief, as well as the former. More generally, to justify such a belief requires the information that the conditions that surround a man and the state he is in are such that when something looks red in conditions of this sort to a person in his state, then it is red. Moreover, a man might justifiably believe he sees something 2 This argument is derived from Chisholm in Perceiving: A Philosophical Study, chapter 5, 'Justification and Perception', 54-66.

104

CORRIGIBLE JUSTIFICATION

red even though what he sees does not look red to him. He may have sufficient independent information for concluding that, though an object does not look red, when things look the way it does in the sort of conditions in which he finds himself, for example, when a coloured light is shining on the object, then the object is red. The question to examine next is whether any more cautious perceptual belief has a justification that does not depend on independent information. A prime candidate is the belief that I see something, without specifying what sort of thing it is that I see. Here, one might think, is a belief which does not require any independent information for it to be justified. None the less, there is reason to doubt this if one construes the word 'something' in such a way as to imply that the object seen is some real thing and not, for example, something hallucinated. For once again, there is need of independent information that would enable the person in question to decide this is the case of seeing something, and not merely a case of hallucination or dreaming, or whatnot. Since a man may hallucinate, he cannot justifiably conclude he sees something as opposed to merely hallucinating unless he has information enabling him to distinguish hallucination from the real thing. There are objections, rather standard ones, to the preceding line of thought. It might be objected, for example, that a man does not need to know anything about hallucination in order to believe justifiably that he sees something. A man who never had hallucinatory experiences, or any other experience leading him to believe he sees something when he does not, might believe with complete justification that he sees something even though he lacks any information about deceptive experience. If it be asked how he can be so justified in his belief even though he lacks the information to determine whether he is seeing rather than hallucinating, the answer is that such beliefs do not require the support of argument or independent information. \ T h e y are justified until they are shown to be erroneous or unjustified. They are, as Reid suggested, innocent until proven guilty. 3 VThere is a reply to the foregoing. Consider the examples of seeing a typewriter and seeing something red. In these cases, 3

Thomas Reid, op. cit.

INADEQUACY OF COMMON SENSE

105

the need for independent information arose from the need to determine whether the circumstances in which a person finds himself are those in which a man may justifiably conclude that he is seeing a typewriter or seeing something red. However, this need also arises in the case of the simple belief that one sees something. Just as one needs some information to tell whether one is seeing a typewriter in the perceptual circumstances surrounding one, so one needs some information to tell whether one is seeing at all in one's circumstances. V The Inadequacy of Common Sense No doubt, in everyday situations we uncritically allow that such beliefs are justified until they are shown to be unjustified, and no doubt in the case of the man who was innocent of hallucinating experience, we would uncritically allow that his perceptual belief was justified. Still, a little more critical circumspection shows that common sense should not be allowed to run unbridled in the epistemic field. All sorts of perceptual beliefs, the belief that one saw a bear-print for example, are considered justified when we have no great stake in the question of whether the belief is true or false. However, when a great deal (our personal safety for example) hinges on the matter of whether the person saw a bear-print or something else, then we become instantly more cautious and exacting. We require a man who knows a bear-print when he sees one. The same applies to the typewriter and the red thing. We are epistemically casual about the justifiability of a belief until something of practical importance or epistemic consequence rests on the question. Perceptual beliefs are considered innocent until proven guilty when we care not the least whether the belief is innocent or guilty. Once we do care, though, then we start to ask serious questions. The first we ask are aimed at establishing whether the belief is justified in terms of the information of the person who espouses the belief. We seek to determine if the person has information enabling him to decide whether he is seeing things of the sort he says he sees. Then the belief is neither innocent nor guilty by presumption. Whether it is justified or not depends on the adequacy of the information of the person involved.

io6

CORRIGIBLE J U S T I F I C A T I O N

The simple belief that one sees something raises similar problems. We concede a man innocent of hallucinatory and other misleading experience to be justified in believing he sees what he says he does when we could not care less whether he sees it or not. When we do care, however, we shall wish to ascertain whether he can distinguish seeing from other experiences of a quite different sort. If my life depends on whether he sees something, I shall be disconcerted, to say the least, when I find I am relying on a man who knows not the difference between seeing and experience of quite another sort. Being so disconcerted, I may wonder whether he even fully understands what it is to see something. I shall most likely conclude he does not. Lacking the information required to tell whether he is seeing something or not, his belief that he sees is surely not completely justified.

An Objection: Skill or Information? It might be objected to the preceding that one does not require information to be justified in such a belief but rather a skill. To be able to tell whether one is seeing something or not is obviously essential to being justified in believing one is seeing something, but, it might be argued, the skill required need not involve the acquisition of information. One can have the ability to tell whether something is of a certain sort without need of information to make such determinations. Hilary Putnam contends that, though sensory experiences are needed for a man to know that he sees something, no premisses describing such experiences are required to justify his belief.4 Similarly, one might argue, a man need not have any independent information in order to respond to experience in such a way as to know that he is seeing something. It is sufficient to have learned to respond to such experience in the appropriate manner. The foregoing objection must be met squarely. A man may learn to tell whether or not he is seeing something without appealing to any premisses or making any conscious inferences. Gilbert Harman has suggested we might nevertheless construe 4 Hilary Putnam, 'Minds and Machines', in Dimensions of Mind, ed. Sidney Hook (New York University Press, New York, i960), 154-5.

SKILL OR I N F O R M A T I O N ?

such

107 5

CtlSCS 3.S examples of unconscious inference. For the purposes of our epistemological analysis, however, we need not embrace or reject his theory. It is sufficient to notice that a man may be said to have information he cannot present verbally and to employ such information in various ways. For example, suppose I know the shortest route from Rochester to Buffalo, though I cannot tell you the number of the road. Moreover, imagine I am not very good at giving directions so I cannot tell someone how to get from Rochester to Buffalo. I do have the information I need to get from Rochester to Buffalo, however, though I am very poor at conveying this information to others. True, the primary manifestation of my having the required information is that I make the trip successfully. I have the skill needed to make the trip from Rochester to Buffalo, but the possession of that skill involves the ability to employ unarticulated information about the route. To consider another example, a man who types by touch might deny having any information concerning where the keys are placed. I n fact, he has information, which he employs in an automatic and unthinking way, when he types. We may speculate on what way this information becomes effective in action, but these matters are best left to be settled by empirical psychology.

Any contingent belief whatever is open to similar argument concerning the need for independent information. Indeed, even the very subjective belief, that it seems to me that I am seeing something, is justified only if I have the information needed to tell whether it seems to me that I am seeing something; or whether I am having some quite different experience, for example, the experience of wondering whether I am seeing something. I may wonder whether I am seeing something when it does not especially seem to me that I am seeing something, and unless I have the information required to tell the difference, I am not completely justified in my belief. The most modest beliefs turn out to be ones requiring independent information for their justification. The preceding argument uncovers a ubiquitious need for independent information to justify belief, and in so doing it undermines the foundation theory. 5 Gilbert Harman, 'How Belief is Based on Inference', Journal of Philosophy, lxi (1964), 353-9.

io8

CORRIGIBLE J U S T I F I C A T I O N

Chisholm and the Non-comparative Use of Words The most important line of reply on behalf of the foundation theory is provided by Chisholm. 6 H e distinguishes between the comparative and non-comparative uses of certain words. Ordinarily, when we apply a word, whether to our own states or to things, this application is based on a comparison we make. For example, if we say something appears red, we may be comparing the way this thing appears with the way other things appear. It is analytic in the comparative use of 'appears red' to say that red things appear red to normal observers in daylight. In the comparative use of words, Chisholm concedes the need for independent information tojustify their application. •' Chisholm, however, claims that words used non-comparatively may be applied without independent information/ Words used non-comparatively may be homogenized producing a single term applying to the state of a man. As Chisholm suggests, we might speak adverbially and say that a m a n believes that he is being appeared-to-redly or, equivalently, that he is sensing-redly. The hyphenated term is intended to characterize the subjective state of the man in question without implying that some thing is appearing to him and without implying any comparison of this state to any other. Thus to say that one is sensing-redly does not entail that one is sensing the way normal observers sense in daylight when they are sensing a red object. It may, of course, be true that one is sensing in that way, but it is not an analytic consequence of the term 'sensing-redly' used non-comparatively. There is an argument to show that there must be a noncomparative use of words. Such a use enables a man to describe what it is he experiences without comparing that experience to any other. To be able to describe a state in comparative terms, thus comparing it to other states, he must first be able to tell what the state is like in itself. Unless he can tell what his state is like in itself, he will be unable to compare it successfully to anything else. T o be able to tell whether A is similar or 6 R. M. Chisholm develops his doctrine concerning the non-comparative use of words in Perceiving: A Philosophical Study, chapter 4, 'Three Uses Appear Words', 50-3, and discusses it again in Theory of Knowledge, chapter 2, 'The Directly Evident', 34-7-

NON-COMPARATIVE USE OF WORDS

109

dissimilar to B, one must first know what A is like, or any such comparison will be unreliable. /Therefore, there must be a way in which one can tell what something is like, for example, a state of oneself, without comparing it to anything else. The non-comparative use of words enables one to record these non-comparative determinations. 7 (A number of philosophers, largely followers of Ludwig Wittgenstein, would deny the possibility of such non-comparative uses of words. The principle assumption of such philosophers is that language must have publicly accessible rules or criteria for the application of words. Such rules are essential for distinguishing between the correct and incorrect application of a word, as well as for distinguishing between applications that only seem to be correct and those that genuinely are correct. 8 Now from such assumptions it might well be concluded that words have only a comparative use,There could be no publicly accessible criteria, it might be argued, for the application of non-comparative terms. Such criteria for the application of a term would depend upon comparing one case to another in order to ascertain whether the term should be applied./This is a highly controversial line of reasoning because some would object that the rules for the application might be private rather than public. Others would object that rules for the application of words need not depend on comparing one thing to another.) We agree with Chisholm that there is such a thing as a noncomparative use of wordg and ask whether this will sustain the thesis that beliefs expressed in non-comparative terms are completely justified without the need for independent information. For a man to be completely justified in believing that he is sensing in a certain way, that he is sensing-redly for example, he must have the information necessary to distinguish this manner of appearing from others.' Perhaps, as Chisholm contends, the belief that one is appeared-to-redly does not entail any comparison of one's present state to any other. Nevertheless, it does entail that one's state is of a certain kind, and to be 7 Chisholm offers such an argument in Theory of Knowledge, chapter 2, p. 36, footnote 20. 8 See Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, trans. G. E. M. Anscombe (Macmillan, New York, 1958), particularly sections 256-8, 261, and 265.

no

CORRIGIBLE J U S T I F I C A T I O N

completely justified in believing it to be of that kind, one must have the information needed to enable one to tell such a state from another. So we arrive at the conclusion reached earlier: to be completely justified in believing anything about a state or object or whatnot one always requires independent information. 9 ^ Semantics and Justification The preceding reflections might seem to doom the foundation theory to epistemic oblivion. We have seen that the stockpile of incorrigible beliefs is epistemically inadequate to provide a justificatory foundation. We have now considered the possibility that some beliefs might be completely justified in themselves without the need for any independent information, and we have found this proposal wanting. The latter proposal may, however, be sustained with some modification. The effective modification is to claim that some beliefs are justified in themselves without need of any evidential justification. The independent information required for such beliefs to be justified, it may be argued, is not evidence used to justify the beliefs but semantic information required to understand the meaning of the statement believed to be true. To return to our example taken from Chisholm, if I believe that I am sensing-redly, then before I can be said to be justified in believing this I must have the information enabling me to distinguish this state from others. Such information is required for me to understand what it means to say that I am sensingredly. If I do not have the information enabling me so to distinguish that state from others, then I do not understand what it means to say that I am in that state. Thus, the information in question is semantic information in the sense that it is information required to understand what it means to say that one is in the state. That semantic information is required, for a belief to be justified, is compatible with the claim that the belief is selfjustified and guarantees its own truth. The semantic information is what makes the believed statement intelligible, and, 9 This argument has been influenced by a similar argument in W. F. Sellars, 'Empiricism and the Philosophy of Mind', in his book Science, Perception, and Reality (Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1963), section 18, pp. 146-7.

MEANING AND E P I S T E M I C P R I N C I P L E S

m

hence, an understanding of that information is necessary for a person genuinely to have the belief. As an illustration, a person who does not understand what it means to say that something is red is one who also does not understand and hence could not genuinely believe that anything is red. Of course, this point must be formulated carefully. It is of course, not necessary for a person to understand what the English word 'red' means, or even to know that there is any such word, for him to believe that anything is red. Nevertheless, to be able to discriminate red from other colours, however impressive this capacity may be, is not the same thing as believing things are red in the sense under discussion here. Here we are restricting the term 'believe' to imply a conviction and readiness to affirm what is believed. It is belief in this sense that is germane to the justification of knowledge claims in the context of epistemic inquiry. Since the information required by a person before a belief may be justified is sometimes nothing more than semantic information needed to understand the meaning of the statement believed to be true, the need for such information does not preclude the possibility of some beliefs being justified in themselves and guaranteeing their own truth. The semantic information is necessary for an understanding of the statement believed and hence for a person to have the belief in question. Once a person has the belief, however, this may suffice to guarantee the truth of the belief. Such beliefs would be basic in the requisite sense. •>. The preceding reflections, though admitted to rest on controversial assumptions, show how it is possible to defend a foundation theory, but this lean possibility wants sustenance. Once we abandon the incorrigible, the claim that any corrigible belief guarantees its own truth faces a difficult question. How does any corrigible belief guarantee its own truth ? If this question is not satisfactorily answered, then the avowal of self-justification remains at the level of unreasoned assertion an dogmatism. Meaning and Epistemic Principles We shall now turn to a familiar answer to this fundamental question. Suppose it is affirmed that if a man believes he is

112

CORRIGIBLE J U S T I F I C A T I O N

sensing-redly (or in some other way described non-comparatively) then he is completely justified in his belief. What defence can be given of this epistemological principle telling us that beliefs of this sort are self-justified? One traditional answer, though not advanced by Chisholm, is to argue such principles are true by virtue of the meaning of words. Again, we are faced with a semantic solution to an epistemological problem. Is the solution effective ? When it is supposed that a principle of justification is true by virtue of the meaning of words, it is not claimed that they are analytic. We cannot substitute defining terms for defined ones in such a way that the result is a statement whose logical form shows it to be a truth of logic. A traditional example of a statement that is true by virtue of the meaning of words is 'All that is coloured is extended', but the statement is not analytic. Fundamental epistemological principles are candidates for similar status. Thus, just as we know that the class of coloured things is a class of extended things by a simple understanding of the meaning of words, so we can know that a certain class of beliefs is a class of self-justified beliefs in the same way. T h a t is the thesis. Some philosophers would regard the foregoing thesis as untenable on the grounds that all statements true by virtue of the meaning of words are analytic; but this is incorrect. The statement that if a person is taller than a second who in turn is taller than a third, then the first is taller than the third, cannot be shown to be true by appealing solely to logic and definitions, but it is necessarily true by virtue of the meaning of words. It cannot possibly be false. There is an important point of disagreement in such matters which should be brought to the dialectical surface. Strictly speaking, it is always some sentence composed of words that is true by virtue of the meaning of those words rather than what is asserted by the utterance of such a sentence. Now an important question arises: is what is asserted necessarily true because the sentence is true by virtue of the meaning of words, or is the sentence true by virtue of the meaning of words because what is asserted is necessarily true? Let us consider a concrete example. Consider the sentence 'If J o h n is taller than Bill, then Bill is not as tall as John.' Now

MEANING AND EPISTEMIG P R I N C I P L E S

113

it is impossible that J o h n should be taller than Bill and that Bill should be taller than John. Equivalently, it is necessarily true that if J o h n is taller than Bill, then Bill is not taller than John. Suppose someone argued he could render this necessity no longer necessary and this impossibility no longer impossible by changing the meaning of words. He might say 'Let us mean by the word "taller" what we mean by the words "equal in height", and then meaning this by the word "taller" we will have arranged things so that it is not impossible that J o h n should be taller than Bill and Bill taller than John.' This merely confuses the issue. If by the words 'taller than' we choose to mean what we mean by the words 'equal in height', then if we say J o h n is taller than Bill and Bill is taller than John', we would assert that John and Bill are equal in height. T h a t is perfectly possible. Once we have made that change in the meaning of words, however, we would no longer be asserting that Bill is taller than John when we say 'Bill is taller than John.' We would be asserting something different. Hence, the change of meaning is quite irrelevant to the possibility or necessity of what we asserted by uttering those words before the change of meaning took place. One cannot render it true or even possible that J o h n should be taller than Bill and Bill taller than J o h n by altering the meaning of words. All one can do is alter what is asserted by uttering the sentence 'John is taller than Bill and Bill is taller than John.' This in no way affects the necessity or impossibility of what was asserted by the sentence before the meaning of words was changed. We must meet an objection. It might be claimed that in the foregoing argument we have made our point only by refusing to use the words in question to mean what they mean once the change of meaning is stipulated. Thus, it might be charged that we continued to use the word 'taller than' as it was used before the stipulated change and that, had we not illicitly behaved in this manner, we would not even be able to formulate our thesis. When we said that it could not be true that J o h n is taller than Bill and Bill is taller than John, we are obviously using the word 'taller than' with its original meaning rather than with its stipulated one. T h e reply to this line of thought requires that we first admit to using terms in their original rather than stipulated sense,

ii4

CORRIGIBLE J U S T I F I C A T I O N

but then deny that it would be impossible to formulate the thesis in question without using terms in this way. If we agree to use 'taller than' to mean 'equal in height', this does not deprive us of our thesis, but only forces us to put the matter in other words. Now we would have to say that it is impossible that John exceeds Bill in height and that Bill exceeds J o h n in height, which is what was asserted by the sentence 'John is taller than Bill and Bill is taller than J o h n ' before the change in meaning took place. Thus, we can say that what was originally asserted by the sentence is necessarily false. Moreover, what was asserted may be asserted in other words once the change in meaning deprives us of the usual words for asserting it. Consequently, the necessity or impossibility of what is asserted does not depend on the meaning of the words employed. The meaning of words determines what is asserted, but not the necessity or impossibility of what is asserted. Meaning and Scepticism Let us return to our fundamental question. Is there some way in which the meaning establishes the truth of epistemic principles ? A sceptic might claim that none of them is true. H e may share most of our beliefs, but he does not share our epistemic convictions concerning what is evident, certain, justified, and so forth. If our fundamental question is to be answered in the affirmative, then appeal to semantics, to the meaning of words, must suffice to refute the sceptic. Let us consider whether the meanings of words are sufficient to untie the sceptical knot. Suppose a man always says he does not know what we say we do know. The sceptic could mean something quite different from what is ordinarily meant. The question is whether the sceptic must mean something different by epistemic terms simply because he speaks with a sceptical tongue. The answer to this question, happily for the sceptic, is that he need not mean anything different by these terms from the rest of us. The systematic difference in what he says from what the rest of us say may suggest he means something different, but we cannot force him to this position. There are two ways to account for the fact that others regu-

MEANING AND SCEPTICISM

115

larly say different things from what we say in the same situations. One way is to suppose that the words they utter mean something quite different when uttered by them. The other is to suppose that the words mean nothing different, but the men differ in what they believe. When the sceptic utters epistemic words, we may either suppose that he means something different from the rest of us, or we may suppose that his beliefs differ from ours. How can we show which supposition is true? J o h n Lyons, following Jost Trier, has contended that we may explicate the meaning of words by means of the logical relations of the words to other words pertaining to the same subject. He calls a group of subject-related terms a 'semantic field'. 10 Whether we accept this as a method of semantic analysis or not, such considerations are evidence of what a person means by the words he uses. Thus a person who understands the logical relations among cooking words, construing those logical relations in the usual way, may reasonably be taken to understand the vocabulary of cooking words and to mean by those words what is ordinarily meant. If a man understands the semantic relations between such words as 'cook', 'fry', 'boil', 'broil', 'saute', and so forth, then we would have evidence that he means what is usually meant by such words. Moreover, if he can provide plausible definitions as well, our evidence is so much the better. 1 1 The foregoing remarks are somewhat oversimplified, for as Adrienne Lehrer has illustrated, there will be some differences in what each of us means by the terms we use. 12 None the less, a general core of agreement is reflected in the general pattern of semantic relations between terms within a field. Moreover, such evidence for determining what a person means by the words he utters illustrates additional considerations, relevant to deciding what a person means by the words he utters, other than considerations of how he applies terms. It is because semantic relations between terms are a determinant of meaning 10 Jost Trier, Der Deutsche Wortschatz im. Sinnbezirk des Verstandes (Carl Winter, Heidelberg, 1931); John Lyons, Structural Semantics (Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1963). See chapter 4. 11 Cf. Adrienne Lehrer,'Semantic Cuisine', Journal of Linguistics,v {1969), 39-55. 13 Adrienne Lehrer, 'Indeterminacy in Semantic Description', Glossa, iv (1970), 87-110. K—E

n6 CORRIGIBLE JUSTIFICATION that profound and systematic disagreement concerning application remains significant. If meaning was determined solely by the way in which words were applied, then there would be no possibility of systematic disagreement over facts and theories. All such disagreements would vanish into semantics. They would become nothing more than mere verbal disagreements resulting from the one person meaning something different from another. The meaning of words is not, however, determined solely by the way they are applied any more than it is determined solely by the semantic relations they have to other terms, even though both of these ingredients are relevant to determinations of meaning. When a man denies the statement 'If something is frying, then it is cooking', then it is doubtful that he is using the terms 'fry' and 'cook' to mean what is ordinarily meant. Similarly, if he insists that something is cooking if and only if it is frying, this is again evidence of deviance. I n their customary meaning, 'to fry' implies 'to cook' but not vice versa. Implication is a semantic relation, as are inconsistency and equivalence. (Implication may be used to define the rest as may inconsistency.) Thus, the network of semantic relations is one determinant of the meaning of terms. We shall now appeal to this determinant to answer the question of whether the sceptic must be interpreted as meaning something special by epistemic terms. The sceptic can mean the same thing by his epistemic words as we do. Terms like 'know', 'evident', 'justified', 'certain', and so forth compose a semantic field. If a man understands semantic relations between those terms to be what is customary, then we have evidence he means by those terms what we ordinarily do. There is little doubt that the sceptic may employ epistemic terms in such a way as to preserve the usual semantic relations between those terms. He may agree that if we know anything to be true, we are completely justified in believing it, but deny that we know anything to be true. H e may pass all such tests concerning semantic relations among epistemic words. He means what we mean. Let us consider an objection to this argument formulated in terms of colour words. Suppose a man semantically relates colour words to each other as we do, but he applies each colour word to the complementary colour to which it is usually

MEANING AND SCEPTICISM

117

applied. This man, a colour-term invert, applies the term 'red' to green things and the term 'green' to red things. I t must be admitted that this difference in application would force us to decide that he means something different by colour terms from the rest of us. Agreement in the construing of semantic relations among terms in a field is not sufficient for agreement of meaning. This objection is important, but not decisive. First, it is not absolutely clear that the agreement can be sustained as other colour terms are added to the field. Such additions could reveal some latent differences in semantic relations. Notice that terms may be added to some semantic fields by ostension. For example, suppose the term 'heliotrope' is not yet included in the semantic field of colour terms. We find a sample, a flower, and lay it down that the colour term 'heliotrope' is to apply to things and only to things having the same colour as the sample. Suppose both we and the colour-term invert adopt this convention. The term 'heliotrope' now belongs to our vocabulary and to that of the colour-term invert. Both of us have agreed to fix the meaning of that term by means of the colour sample. But semantic relations now diverge. We would affirm that everything heliotrope is purple, while the colour-term invert would deny this: he applies the term 'purple' only to the complement of purple. Differences of application resulting from a difference in meaning can be elicited by a semantic extension of the field in which new terms are introduced by ostension. We are not proposing that introduction of terms by ostension is a complete specification of the meaning; it is not. Meaning depends on the semantic relation of a term to others in the same field. Ostensive introduction of terms into already existent semantic fields may, however, enable us to relate the terms to others in the field almost automatically. Epistemic terms in the vocabulary of a sceptic may have the same semantic relations as they have in ours. Could the process of ostension reveal an extended field of epistemic terms for the sceptic having different semantic relations than the extended field for the non-sceptic? Let us imagine that attempt to introduce an epistemic term by ostension. We indicate a belief and lay it down that the term 'agnoite' is to apply to beliefs and only to beliefs of the same epistemic sort as the sample belief. This would leave one without adequate understanding

u8 CORRIGIBLE JUSTIFICATION of the meaning of the term 'agnoite'. One could well remain unenlightened even after several examples had been produced. T o clarify the meaning of the term 'agnoite' would most likely require the explanation that an agnoite belief is an ignorant belief. Moreover, the thus extended semantic field of the sceptic need not differ from our own. Once the sceptic understood that an agnoite belief was an ignorant belief, he could semantically relate the term 'agnoite' to other epistemic terms in the same way the rest of us do. The only difference in his employment of the term is that he will apply it to all beliefs. The difference between the sceptic and the colour-term invert shows that the sceptical usage of epistemic terms should be explained as a difference of belief rather than as a difference of meaning. Let us compare the man who learns the meaning of the term 'heliotrope' by ostension to the sceptic who learns the meaning of the term 'agnoite'. Once the colour-term invert learns the meaning of 'heliotrope' by ostension, he has an extended semantic field whose terms differ in semantic relations from the terms belonging to the same extended field used by someone who attaches the customary meaning to colour words. This would be shown by his application of terms and by what he takes to be the semantic relations between terms. He does not apply 'purple' to purple things, and he denies that heliotrope things are purple. The best explanation of why he does these things leads to the conclusion that he means something different by the term 'purple' and other colour terms from the rest of us. But the sceptic is altogether different. When the sceptic learns the meaning of the term 'agnoite', this does not produce any deviation from the customary semantic relations among epistemic terms in the extended field. Since learning the meaning of other epistemic terms would not produce semantic deviation, some difference in belief rather than a difference in meaning explains the sceptical practice of denying what we assert about epistemological issues. A summary of our argument may be useful. Two kinds of information are relevant to determining what a man means by the words he utters; information about how he applies the term and information about how he semantically relates the word to others in the same field. We then noted that two men might relate a word to others in the same way in a semantic field and

NECESSARY T R U T H

"9

yet not mean the same thing by the word. The example of colour terms illustrated this. We argued, however, that some extension of the semantic field would produce a difference in the way in which the two men would relate the word to others in the extended semantic field. Hence, if two men semantically relate a word in the same way, not only to terms actually in use but to terms in extended semantic fields as well, this is sufficient to show that they mean the same thing by the word in question. Finally, the sceptic may semantically relate the word 'know' to other epistemic words as others do, not only those actually in use but to epistemic terms in extended semantic fields as well. Therefore, the sceptic may mean what men ordinarily mean by the word 'know' and other epistemic terms. We have examined the position that one cannot speak as a sceptic without meaning something different by the epistemic words one utters from what is ordinarily meant, and found it wanting; A sceptic might deny that any belief is completely justified and mean what is customarily meant by epistemic terms. One cannot, therefore, argue that any belief is basic and self-justified on the grounds that to deny this would necessitate attaching some novel meaning to epistemic terms. The foundation theory cannot be sustained by this line of argument. Self-justification and Necessary Truth There is a final line of defence for a philosopher wishing to argue that certain epistemic principles, ones affirming beliefs to be self-justified, are true by virtue of the meaning of words. H e may affirm that what a sceptic says is necessarily false. Thus, for example, a foundation theorist may contend that if a man believes himself to be sensing-redly, then it follows from his so believing that he is justified in believing he is sensing-redly. Notice, we are not here reverting to the doctrine of incorrigibility. It is claimed here that it follows, from a man believing he is sensing-redly, that he is justified in his belief and not that this belief is true. Were the doctrine correct, a sceptic conceding someone believes he is sensing-redly but denying the person to be completely justified in so believing, would be espousing what is necessarily false. /\ The major difficulty with this position is that it is initially

120

CORRIGIBLE JUSTIFICATION

implausible and fundamentally dogmatic. The claims of the sceptic may seem odd. Nevertheless, there is little credibility in the idea that when the sceptic says a certain belief is not completely justified he is thereby saying something contradictory. Compare the sceptic's claim, that a person believes he is sensing-redly but is not completely justified in his belief, with the claim that there is a red object that is not coloured. The latter, if taken literally, is impossible. There is no logically possible way in which an object can be red but not coloured. T h e suggestion is logically incoherent. By contrast, the claim that a belief, any belief, is not completely justified, however contrary to our convictions, is logically coherent. We can understand how it is possible, for example, if there are no completely justified beliefs. The sceptic does not contradict himself. I t would be plainly dogmatic and unwarranted to pin the label of inconsistency upon his pronouncements. The sceptic could, furthermore, even accede to such semantic dogmatism and still defend himself with a minor readjustment. We initially imagined the sceptic admitting we believe such things as that we are sensing-redly, and then denying we are completely justified in our beliefs. Now, if we rule out this sceptical manoeuvre as a matter of the meaning of words, we rob the sceptic of his position through semantics. H e can easily retaliate, however. Whereas he was formerly conciliatory with respect to the question of whether we believe ourselves to be in the states in question, he may now become more truculent. H e may assert that we only apparently believe ourselves to be in those states, but actually do not believe it because we are not completely justified in believing ourselves to be in the states in question. In short, he may agree that certain beliefs, if they exist, are completely justified, but deny that such beliefs exist. They appear to exist, but appearances can be deceptive. Instead of believing that we are sensing-redly, for example, we are in a somewhat different state, one like that state but not entailing that anyone is completely justified in any belief. Though we are not here primarily concerned with scepticism, the perspective of the sceptic is important. I t shows us that the appeal to the meaning of words to defend epistemic principles is philosophically otiose. Consider a similar tactic a foundation theorist might employ

NECESSARY T R U T H

121

in defence of such epistemic principles. When asked for defence, he might say that such principles, when believed, constitute basic beliefs. Hence, his justification for believing that a man who believes he is sensing-redly is completely justified is simply self-justification. The belief that the principle is true is basic. And, of course, when this claim is challenged, it may again be affirmed to be basic. It is clear this line of thought can be pressed into infinite service. It is equally obvious that such a line of defence is totally ineffective as it entirely begs the question in favour of the foundation theorist. The claim that epistemic principles are self-justified or true by virtue of the meaning of words simply lacks dialectical cogency. How, then, might the claim be defended ? The defence must take the form of showing the alleged basic beliefs to be selfjustified in terms of the objective of such justification, namely, to guarantee the truth of the beliefs in question. The problem is to show that a man seeking to guarantee the truth of his beliefs could reasonably take some beliefs to be basic. If it could be shown to be reasonable for a man, seeking a guaranteee of veracity in what he believes, to justify all his beliefs, in terms of certain ones which are not justified by any others, then it would be reasonable for him to lay down epistemic principles according to which the latter beliefs are self-justified. The question of whether there are such beliefs turns, however, on the question of what beliefs would be justified for a man striving for such a guarantee of truth. Consequently, we shall postpone our final judgement on the matter of whether any adequate defence of the doctrine of basic beliefs can be constructed until we have examined the status of non-basic beliefs.

6 Justification and Evidence: The Foundation Theory (III) I N this chapter we shall consider the problem of the justification of non-basic beliefs. Our special concern here is with such justification within the context of a foundation theory. For our immediate purposes we shall assume that we have a set of self-justified basic beliefs and consider how such beliefs might justify others. Moreover, we must keep in mind that it is a central tenet of the foundation theory that justification guarantees truth, and from this it follows that the self-justified basic beliefs which guarantee their own truth must, if they justify any non-basic belief, also guarantee the truth of such beliefs. We are thus seeking an account of justification of non-basic beliefs which guarantees the truth of non-basic beliefs. How Justification is Based on Evidence The project outlined above necessitates considering problems of justification that would arise for any theory of justification, so, before turning to the special issues arising within the foundation theory of justification, we must attempt to solve one general problem regarding justification. The solution will be neutral with respect to the debate between the foundation theory and an alternative to it. The problem concerns the way in which justification is based on evidence. If one statement or belief justifies another, then the former is evidence for the latter. Moreover, the justification, whatever its precise character, is based on the evidence. The problem is to say under what conditions a justification of a belief is based on evidence. When a man's justification for his belief is based on evidence, then he believes what he does because of the evidence. This

HOW J U S T I F I C A T I O N IS BASED ON EVIDENCE

123

suggests a causal account of what is involved when the justification of a belief is based on evidence. The notion of a justification being based on evidence would then be explicated in causal terms. Following this proposal, a man's justification for his belief is based on certain evidence if and only if his belief is causally related in some specified way to the evidence. How to specify the exact way in which the belief must be causally related to the evidence would remain a problem on this approach, but it would be a problem of detail rather than of principle. All such theories must be rejected, however. 1 Often the evidence on which a justification is based does causally explain the existence of the belief, and it may even be admitted that sometimes the belief is justified because of the way in which it is explained by the evidence. Nevertheless, it is also possible for a justified belief to be causally independent of the evidence in every way. Indeed, it may well be that the evidence in no way explains why the man holds the belief even though his justification for the belief is based on the evidence. The evidence that justifies a man's belief may be evidence he acquired because he already held the belief, rather than the other way round. Moreover, it might even be that he would no longer appreciate the evidence if the belief were to fade. An example will illustrate. It is easy to imagine the case of someone who comes to believe something for the wrong reason, and consequently, cannot be said to be justified in his belief, but who, as a result of his belief, uncovers some evidence which completely justifies his belief. A lawyer who, because he has fallen in love with his client, believes she is innocent of a crime, though all the available evidence points to her guilt, might come to find conclusive evidence of her innocence that the rest of us fail to appreciate. He could not be said to know that she is innocent before he finds the evidence in question, even if he might say he knows, but once the lawyer finds the evidence and appeals to it to justify his belief, then he may correctly be said to know that she is innocent. I n this example, the man did not originally come to believe that the woman was innocent 1 Three important defences of the causal theory of knowing are Alvin Goldman's 'A Causal Theory of'Knowing:', Journal ofPhilosophy, lxiv (1967), 357-72. Gilbert Harman's 'Knowledge, Reasons, and Causes', Journal of Philosophy, lxvii (1970), 841-55, and Marshall Swain's 'Knowledge, Causality, and Justification', Journal of Philosophy, Ixix (1972), 291-300.

124

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND EVIDENCE

because of the evidence he subsequently acquired, nor does that evidence in any way explain why he believes what he does. O n the other hand, the evidence does completely justify his belief and explains how he knows that she is innocent. There is a reply to this sort of example, supplied by Gilbert Harman, to the effect that the evidence which the lawyer subsequently acquired reinforces or supports his belief in such a way as to explain, at least conditionally, his belief. On the condition that the lawyer ceases to love his client and hence no longer believes in her innocence for that reason, the evidence would then sustain the belief. At the very least, the evidence partially explains why he believes in her innocence. Thus the evidence on which a justification is based either explains or at least partially explains the belief which it justifies. The preceding argument may be met, however, by altering the example to insure that the evidence does not conditionally or partially explain why the m a n believes what he does. T o this end, imagine a second lawyer who happens to be a gypsy with the gypsy's traditional reverence for reading the cards. He too has a client who appears guilty to the impartial observer. I n fact, imagine that eight murders have been committed, all of them alike, carried out with the same sort of weapon under the same circumstances. There is no doubt about the fact that seven of these murders were committed by the client: that is conclusively established, and the eighth is like the other seven in every detail. The crimes are hideous, and it is assumed by all concerned including the lawyer that his client committed the eighth. However, one evening the lawyer is checking with the cards, reading them with gypsy skill and conviction, when the cards tell him that his client is innocent of the eighth murder though guilty of the others. H e never doubts the cards. His conviction of innocence leads him to reconsider the evidence. H e discovers a valid though complicated line of reasoning from the evidence to the conclusion that his client did not commit the eighth murder. Because the line of reasoning is complicated, others, impressed by the similarity of the crimes and eager to believe that the agent of them all has been apprehended, refuse to accept the lawyer's cogent reasoning. Nevertheless, he sincerely and correctly maintains that on the basis of evidence, he knows his client is innocent of the eighth murder. He freely

HOW J U S T I F I C A T I O N IS BASED ON EVIDENCE

125

admits, however, that the evidence which he claims shows that he knows his client to be innocent of that crime is not what convinced him of the innocence of his client, and, indeed, would not convince him now were he not already convinced by the cards. He agrees that it is extraordinarily difficult to be convinced by the evidence because of the emotional factors surrounding the crime. The evidence is quite conclusive, as shown by his complicated chain of reasoning, but even he would find himself unable to believe his client could be innocent of that eighth murder were it not for the fact that the cards told him it was so. I t is what he read in the cards that completely convinced him his client was innocent of the eighth murder, and it is that which nurtures and supports his conviction. His conviction could not be increased by his consideration of the evidence because he was already completely convinced. O n the other hand, were his faith in the cards to collapse, then emotional factors which influence others would sway him too. Therefore the evidence which completely justifies his belief does not explain why he believes as he does, his faith in the cards explains that, and the evidence in no way supports, reinforces, or conditionally or partially explains why he believes as he does. Since his belief is completely explained by his faith in cards, the evidence is irrelevant to explaining why he believes as he does. His belief is completely justified by the evidence, however: his faith in the cards is irrelevant to the justification of his belief. The preceding discussion rests on a distinction between explaining why a man believes something, on the one hand, and explaining how he knows it on the other. When a man knows that his belief is true, the explanation of why he believes what he does may have something to do with his having the evidence he does, but it also may have nothing whatever to do with his having evidence. The explanation may rest on political, erotic, or other extraneous influences, but the explanation of how a man knows that his belief is true, when the justification of the belief is based on evidence, must be in terms of the evidence. It is how a man knows that is explained by evidence. Why he believes what he does may be explained by anything whatever. Therefore, a justification of a belief that is known to be true is based on certain evidence if and only if

i26

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND EVIDENCE

his having that evidence explains how he knows the belief is true. The idea of evidence explaining how a man -knows may be further clarified by recalling once again that our primary concern is to provide a theory to explain how knowledge claims are justified. I t is the defence of knowledge claims which must be explicated by our theory. A knowledge claim is challenged by the question 'How do you know?' A justificatory reply to this challenge which appeals to evidence can constitute an explanation of how the person knows. It will do so if the reply is a correct one. Thus, we may say that a justification based on evidence explains how a man knows that p if and only if that justification would be a correct answer for the man to the question 'How do you know that p ?' We have thus reduced the problem of specifying conditions under which a justification is based on evidence to the problem of explicating when a justification is a correct answer to the question 'How do you know?' 3 Justification as a Logical Guarantee of Truth According to the foundation theory, a correct answer to such a question must be one guaranteeing the truth of what a man has claimed to know. When the answer is a justification based on evidence, the justification must guarantee the truth of the non-basic belief so justified. Just as logical guarantees are sought for the truth of basic beliefs, so they are for non-basic beliefs. Hence, a justification based on evidence which logically entails the truth of the non-basic belief is our first candidate for the role of a guarantee of truth through evidential justification. The attempt to formulate a theory of justification for nonbasic beliefs has often lead to some sort of analytically reductive theory concerning those statements expressing nonbasic beliefs. An analytically reductive theory affirms that statements containing terms of a specified class can be reduced by logical analysis to statements formulated in a more restricted vocabulary not containing the terms in question. 2 This analysis was originally proposed in my 'How Reasons Give Us Knowledge, or, The Case of the Gypsy Lawyer', Journal of Philosophy, Ixviii (i97i),3i i—13.

PHENOMENALISM

127

Phenomenalism, for example, affirms that statements containing physical-object terms can be reduced by logical analysis to statements formulated in a more restricted sense-data vocabulary not containing physical-object terms. Thus, phenomenalism, if correct, could provide the basis for a theory of justification avowing that some restricted class of sense-data statements, perhaps those reporting some past or present sense experience, express basic beliefs, while physical-object statements, and those statements to which they can be reduced by logical analysis, express non-basic beliefs. Phenomenalism There are a number of problems concerning phenomenalism that have led to its rejection. First, the language of sense-data is itself controversial. Sense-data language describes the appearances one senses, or the way in which one is appeared to, but it is also supposed to have other properties which are controversial. For example, Ayer suggested that some sensedata statements are incorrigible, 3 and we have considered the problems surrounding such a claim. Second, it is doubted by some philosophers that the required logical analysis of physicalobject statements can be effected. For example, Chisholm has argued that no physical-object statement logically entails any sense-data statement. 4 This is so, he argued, because for any physical-object statement we consider, for example, that there is a doorknob before me, we can show that this does not logically entail any sense-data statement. For example, such sense-data statements as that I am sensing roundish, yellowish sense-data, or that if I were to sense certain kinesthetic sensations, I would sense hardish, coldish sense-data, are not entailed. We can prove this by framing a suitable hypothesis about the state of the observer. If we suppose that I am experiencing various hallucinations, which is logically possible, then, from the presence of the doorknob, nothing follows about what sense-data I am experiencing or would experience. 3 See A. J . Ayer's defence of this thesis in Foundations of Empirical Knowledge, 78-84, and in Philosophical Essays (St. Martin's Press, New York, 1954), in the chapter entitled 'Basic Propositions', 105-24, but particularly ii3ff. 4 R. M. Chisholm, in the appendix to Perceiving: A Philosophical Study, 190-3.

I

ia8

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND EVIDENCE

Phenomenalism, however, though not commonly defended currently, is characteristic of analytically reductive theories. By examining it we can determine the relevance of such reductive theories to the foundation theory of justification. Though the term 'logical analysis' is used in a variety of meanings, we are concerned here with those analyses that satisfy the following condition: if L is a logical analysis of S, then L is logically equivalent to S. This condition is only a necessary condition of a logical analysis. The importance of the condition for a foundation theory of justification is that if L is logically equivalent to S, and if L is a conjunction of statements formulating basic beliefs, then the statement S is a logical consequence of the statements of basic beliefs making up the conjunction. As a result, the non-basic belief that S may be deductively justified by those basic beliefs. Since the justification would be deductive, the justification, assuming the truth of the basic belief to be guaranteed, would logically guarantee the truth of the non-basic belief. In terms of phenomenalism, those sense-data statements formulating basic beliefs, and also constituting the analysis of a physical-object statement, could deductively guarantee the truth of non-basic belief in the truth of the latter. The appeal to an analytically reductive theory to support a foundation theory of justification of non-basic beliefs faces two serious problems. These can be illustrated by further consideration of phenomenalism. Suppose we have a physical-object statement, P, and we have a phenomenalistic analysis of P in sense-data terminology, where the analysis consists of a conjunction of sense-data statements Si, S2, and so forth through Sn. Let us for the sake of simplicity refer to the statements formulating basic beliefs as basic statements and those statements formulating non-basic beliefs as non-basic statements. Then we may ask a critical question about the set of statements Si, Sz, and so forth to Sn. Are these statements basic or nonbasic ones? On any plausible analysis, a person is not completely justified in believing the entire set of sense-data statements as basic beliefs. T h a t is, some of the statements Si, S2, and so forth to Sn will either be statements a person is not completely justified in believing, or they will be non-basic. Suppose we

ANALYTICALLY R E D U C T I V E T H E O R I E S

129

attempt to analyse the statement 'there is a ripe tomato before me' and consider the sort of sense-data statements one might think are part of the analysis of this statement. Some of these statements would be about what one is sensing at the moment, for example, a reddish, roundish sense-datum, others would be hypothetical statements about what one would be sensing if one were in different circumstances. These hypothetical statements would tell us what one would be sensing if one were in a different position, if the tomato were to be manipulated in a variety of ways, if the surrounding conditions were altered in a variety of ways and so forth. Some of these hypothetical statements would have to be justified by evidence, if they are justified at all. Many of them would be contrary to fact, asserting what one would sense if certain facts were other than they are. One could be completely justified in believing such statements without evidence if they were not contrary to fact. Given that such a statement is contrary to fact, it is non-basic. Belief in the truth of a contrary to fact conditional, if it is justified at all, is justified on the basis of evidence. Therefore, the set of statements £1, £2, and so forth to Sn of any plausible phenomenalistic analysis cannot all be completely justified basic beliefs. Hence, such an analysis will not show how a set of basic beliefs about sensedata statements can guarantee the truth of a physical-object statement. The upshot of this argument is that the sense-data statements Si, S2, and so forth to Sn of any plausible phenomenalistic analysis of physical-object statements cannot all be basic. If not all the sense-data statements are basic, then the analysis does not provide us with a set of basic statements that guarantee the truth of a non-basic statement. Analytically Reductive Theories The preceding argument can be extended to a variety of analytically reductive theories. Philosophers who have eschewed phenomenalism as unrealistic have often embraced some other analytically reductive theory to sustain their own version of a foundation theory. For example, some philosophers of science have regarded observation statements as basic and

i3o

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND EVIDENCE

have proposed some reductive analysis of generalizations and theories in terms of observation statements. I t was once argued, for instance, that generalizations of the form 'Any thing that is Oi is 0 2 ' , where ' O i ' and ' 0 2 ' are observation terms, may be analysed as a conjunctive statement: If xi is Oi then xi is O2 and if X2 is Oi then X2 is 0 2 and so forth. Here the difficulty mentioned above becomes obvious, since it is clear that not all the hypothetical statements are completely justified basic statements. If they are all completely justified, at least some of them must be completely justified as non-basic beliefs, that is, their justification must be based on evidence. The reason is that we shall not have observed every one of the objects xi, X2, and so forth, and, thus, even if we allow that beliefs in observation statements are self-justified, we shall not have observed enough to render all the hypothetical statements in the analysis of the generalization self-justified. Consequently, some of those beliefs will be non-basic. Hence, such a reductive analysis will not show how basic observation statements justify and guarantee the truth of non-basic generalizations. Similar remarks apply to reductive analyses of theoretical statements in terms of observation statements. Moreover, other reductive analyses, such as behaviouristic analysis of psychological statements in terms of behavioural statements fail to support a foundation theory for the same general reasons. These reasons should be clear from the preceding arguments concerning phenomenalism. Suppose we analyse a psychological statement P as the conjunction of behavioural statements Bi, B2, and so forth to Bn, where the latter are intended to be basic. The appeal of the idea is that the conjunction will be logically equivalent to P, and hence, P can be deduced from the set of the statements so conjoined. By deduction, then, the basic statements would guarantee the truth of the non-basic psychological statement. In any plausible analysis of the kind in question, however, some of the conjuncts Bi, B2, and so forth to Bn will be such that if we are completely justified in believing them, the justification will be based on evidence. The reason is that they will be contrary to fact conditionals concerning behaviour. Hence, some of the statements will turn out to be non-basic. Put in old-fashioned language, our justification for believing at

MEANING AND I N D U C T I V E J U S T I F I C A T I O N

131

least some of the statements must be indirect, and this suffices to ensure that they are not self-justified. Again, at least some statements in the reductive analysis are not basic. The best guarantee of truth which basic statements might provide for non-basic ones is unavailable. Analytically reductive theories provide a logical guarantee of truth, but they lead to incoherence when we attempt to combine them with a foundation theory. Statements we assume to be basic turn out to be non-basic. Hence, to sustain a foundation theory, basic statements must justify and guarantee the truth of non-basic statements in some other way. Meaning and Inductive Justification Another proposal is that statements completely justify non-basic statements by virtue of the meaning of words. A similar proposal was considered when we investigated the question of the justification of basic statements, and rejected because it rendered scepticism contradictory. The issue is slightly different here, however. First, even if the theory leads to the conclusion that scepticism concerning non-basic statements is contradictory, this conclusion is not as implausible as the assertion that universal scepticism is contradictory. Given basic statements, which are self-justified and guarantee their own truth, it could be contradictory to suppose that those statements do not completely justify or guarantee the truth of any other statements. Moreover, a familiar problem of inductive inference suggests that the meaning of terms determines whether justificatory inference is legitimate. We have already noted that there are cases in which a conclusion is deducible from the premisses in which the deduction depends on the meaning of descriptive terms within those statements. One is the deduction from the statement 'The table is red' to the statement 'The table is coloured.' Another deduction we considered above is from the statement. 'John is taller than Bill' to the statement 'Bill is shorter than John.' In the former inference, the deduction depends on the meaning of the qualitative terms 'red' and 'coloured' and in the latter case on the meaning of the relational words 'taller' and 'shorter'. So deduction depends, K—F

132

JUSTIFICATION

AND

EVIDENCE

in some cases, on the meaning of descriptive (non-logical) words in the statements. Here, meaning is what guarantees that the premisses deductively justify the conclusion. There are also, however, cases where the inference is clearly non-deductive, let us say inductive for convenience, in which the justification of the conclusion by another statement also depends on the meaning of words. It is natural and traditional to suppose that inductive inference depends only on the form of statements. For example, suppose I observe that xi which is A is B, that X2 which is A is B and so forth to observing that xn which is A is B. Imagine that xi to xn are all the things I have observed that are A. In that case, assuming that n is a large number, I might inductively infer that all things that are A are B. Moreover, one might, if one is embracing a foundation theory according to which the observation statements are basic, maintain that if n is large enough, then the observation of n things could completely justify the conclusion that all A is B. By holding this form of the foundation theory, one would be in a position to contend that particular basic statements could justify general non-basic statements, and, consequently, that the foundation theory is adequate to explain the justification of generalizations. There are two problems with this line of thought, one of which stems from Nelson Goodman. 5 The problem stemming from Goodman rests on a familiar counterexample to the thesis. Suppose, Goodman says, we define a rather peculiar predicate 'grue' as follows; a thing is grue if and only if it is observed and green, or unobserved and blue. Now, it happens that we notice that things, say emeralds, are grue, because we observe that they are green and observed. Consider the emeralds we observe. We then observe that xi is an emerald and grue, that X2 is an emerald and grue, and so forth to xn. By the rule above, we conclude that all the emeralds in question are grue; by the same rule, we conclude that all emeralds are green. The statement that all emeralds are grue logically entails that all unobserved emeralds are blue, while the statements that all emeralds are green logically entails that all unobserved emeralds are green. Hence, the observation statements cannot completely 5

See Nelson Goodman's Fact, Fiction, and Forecast (Bobbs-Merrill, Indianapolis, Ind., 1965), 72-83.

M E A N I N G AND

INDUCTIVE JUSTIFICATION

133

justify and guarantee the truth of both of these conclusions without entailing the undesired consequence that there are no unobserved emeralds. 6 It might seem as though there is an obvious objection to this argument, namely, that 'grue' is defined and 'green' is not. As Goodman points out, however, we could define another term 'bleen' as follows: something is bleen if and only if it is observed and blue or unobserved and green. If we take 'grue' and 'bleen' as primitive, then we can define 'green' and 'blue'. The former is defined as follows: something is green if and only if it is observed and grue or unobserved and bleen. Since what is taken as defined or primitive in language is arbitrary, the Goodman example holds. 7 We cannot base justificatory inference on the form of the inference alone. There are diverse morals to be drawn. J o h n Pollock draws the conclusion that the justificatory inference depends on the meaning of terms, and his conclusion is justified. 8 Of course, to say that justification depends on the meaning of terms does not explain why the observation that emeralds are green justifies the projection that unobserved emeralds are green, while the observation that emeralds are grue does not justify the projection that unobserved emeralds are grue. None the less, the meaning of the terms 'grue' and 'green' in some way accounts for why we can project in the one case and not the other, even if one has not accounted for the way in which the meaning of the terms limits projection in one case and permits it in the other/ If 'grue' meant what 'green' meant and vice versa then, no matter which term was primitive and which was defined, 'green' should be projected and 'grue' should not. This leads Pollock to contend that justification conditions for the application of terms are constitutive of the meaning of those terms. 9 This contention is not established by the insight mentioned above. It may be a necessary condition of the application of a term being justified that the term means what it does, but it does not follow that the meaning of the term is a sufficient condition for the application of the term. Whether certain 6 8

Goodman, op. cit. 74. John Pollock, unpublished manuscript.

7 9

Ibid. 79-80. Ibid.

134

J U S T I F I C A T I O N AND EVIDENCE

basic statements completely j'ustify and guarantee the truth of certain non-basic statements depends on the meaning of descriptive terms. T h a t terms mean what they do is a necessary condition for the basic statements justifying the non-basic statements, but it does not follow that it is sufficient. Whether a statement is completely justified by basic statements depends on the meaning of the terms within the statement. Still, this leaves open the question of when the meaning of terms ensures that a non-basic statement is completely justified by a basic statement which does not logically entail the non-basic statement. The example of 'grue' and 'green' is not such a case. There is no contradiction involved in denying that the statement 'the next emerald to be observed will be green' is completely justified by the statement 'all of the numerous emeralds that have been observed are green.' Indeed, there is no contradiction in denying that the latter provides any justification for believing the former. Of course, someone may choose to use the terms 'justify' and 'completely justify' in such a way as to make it a consequence of the meaning of these terms that the justification holds, but this manoeuvre comes closer to changing the subject than to solving the problem. We shall simply have to find new words for old questions. We may, in this situation, ask whether 'completely justified' beliefs are completely warranted, or, more to the heart of the matter, whether there is any connection between 'complete justification' and truth. Once this redefinition of terms takes place, we shall have to re-establish that complete justification guarantees the truth of the belief justified. And that is precisely our original question in a new guise. We started by asking whether a certain form of reasoning completely justified and guaranteed the truth of a non-basic belief. We are told that such reasoning does completely justify the non-basic belief as a consequence of the meaning of the term 'completely justify'. Now, however, we must ask whether reasoning which completely justifies a non-basic belief guarantees the truth of the non-basic belief. Of course, someone might reply that it is a consequence of the meaning of the words 'guarantee the truth' that such completely justified beliefs are ones whose truth is guaranteed. Then we come down

PROBABILITY AND J U S T I F I C A T I O N

135

to the epistemic finishing line, and ask whether there is any connection between guaranteeing the truth of a belief and the belief being true. We arrive, finally at the question of whether those beliefs whose truth is 'guaranteed' are even likely to be true. Probability and Justification The preceding formulation of the problem takes us to the most fundamental issue, one concerning the probability of truth. For the foundation theory to succeed, the basic beliefs of the theory must at least render it highly probable that non-basic beliefs are true. If the evidence formulated in self-justified beliefs which guarantee their own truth is to completely justify and guarantee the truth of non-basic beliefs, then the truth of non-basic beliefs must be highly probable on the basis of the evidence of basic ones. We arrived at the basis for this conclusion in our earlier discussion of analytically reductive theories employed to support the foundation theory. We saw that the justification relation between basic statements and non-basic statements could not be confined to deduction. Such confinement yields the result that the statements assumed initially to be basic turn out to be non-basic. For the purposes of the foundation theory, basic statements must guarantee the truth of non-basic statements without entailing them. By considering the role of probability in the foundation theory we can bypass further discussion of whether basic beliefs completely justify non-basic ones by virtue of the meaning of words. The truth of non-basic beliefs are guaranteed in the requisite sense only if they are at least highly probable on the evidence of basic beliefs. 10 Even if basic beliefs render non-basic beliefs highly probable, it remains an open question whether the former guarantee the truth of the latter. Basic beliefs might render non-basic beliefs highly probable, but fail to render them sufficiently probable to guarantee their truth. There remains the question of when a probability is high enough to completely justify and guarantee 10 This thesis may be questioned by those who defend a non-probabilistic account of inductive support, for example, L. Jonathan Cohen in Implications of Induction (Methuen, London, 1970).

136

JUSTIFICATION

AND

EVIDENCE

the truth of a belief. We shall return to this question after a brief consideration of the concept of probability. Three Concepts of Probability Philosophers and logicians have distinguished a number of different conceptions of probability. 1 1 Among these are the frequency concept, the logical concept, and the subjective concept. We shall consider them all and ask what application each concept has to the problem of the justification of non-basic beliefs. First, we consider the frequency concept. This conception of probability is based on a familiar feature of statistical inference. Sometimes we infer that a certain percentage of things of one class also belongs to a second class from our observation of a sample. The inferred statement is a probability statement. A frequency probability statement tells us the numerical frequency with which members of a class A are also members of class B. Or less specifically, the statement might tell us that the frequency falls within certain numerical limits. An example of that first kind of statement is one telling us that the frequency with which a coin falls heads when flipped is one out of two or 1/2, while an example of the second kind of statement is one telling us that the frequency with which a person is born female is within the interval of 2/5 to 3 / 5 . What exact interpretation is given to such statements is controversial. Some philosophers have interpreted such statements as expressing the limit of the relative frequency in an infinite series. Other philosophers have interpreted the frequency statement as expressing a propensity of members of one class to be members of a second class. However, the crucial feature of such statements for the purposes of our discussion is that all such statements turn out to be very general contingent statements about the world. Consequently, if such probability statements are to enter into the justification of non-basic beliefs on the basis of basic ones, the probability statement must itself be known or at least completely justified. 11 The frequency concept is articulated by Hans Reichenbach in Theory of Probability (University of California Press, Berkeley, 1949), the logical concept is developed by Rudolf Carnap in The Logical Foundations of Probability (University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1950), and the subjective concept is developed by Richard Jeffrey in The Logic of Decision (McGraw-Hill, New York, 1965).

F R E Q U E N C I E S AND J U S T I F I C A T I O N

Frequencies and Justification I n order to consider the application of this concept of probability to the foundation theory of justification, let us return to the special case ofjustifying physical-object statements on the basis of sense-data statements. There is a classical objection to the strategy of employing frequency probability statements to justify physical-object statements on the basis of sense-data statements. First, a probability statement must relate some class of true physical-object statements to a class of true sense-data statements. Thus, it must tell us that the frequency of statements being members of a class of a specified kind of true sense-data statements accompanied by statements being members of a class of true physical-object statements of a special variety is some very high number or is within an interval of very high numbers. To arrive at such a probability statement